I was still in such a muddle I didn’t have an answer. Bridesmaid’s dress? Mum and Peter weren’t really in love. They weren’t a couple. They hardly knew each other. Though of course they had actually known each other for twenty-five years or more.
‘Mum?’ I said.
But then there was a great scream from upstairs.
JORDAN CAME CHARGING down the stairs in her borrowed nightdress. Her face was red with rage.
‘You liar!’ she shouted at Mum. Then she looked at me. ‘How could you have let her, Jess? I thought you were my friend!’
‘I am!’ I said.
‘Don’t give me that! I’m out of here!’ said Jordan as Justine came clattering down behind her, nearly tripping in her high-heeled boots.
‘You might have warned me there was the girl from hell sleeping in your bed!’ she said. ‘She actually tried to take a swing at me!’
‘I hate social workers!’ Jordan said furiously.
‘What? You think I’m a social worker?’ Justine demanded, outraged.
‘The new Elaine the Pain,’ said Mum, and she doubled up laughing.
Peter joined in. Even Justine snorted.
‘Don’t you dare laugh at me!’ said Jordan. ‘You give me my clothes back, Tracy, and then I’m out of here, and none of you can stop me, see.’
‘We’re not laughing at you, Jordan. We’re laughing at you thinking Justine was a social worker. I had this poor woman called Elaine as my social worker and we all used to take the mick – she was pretty useless. Well, I suppose she was simply doing her best. I was the pain,’ said Mum.
‘You sound as if you’ve done self-awareness therapy,’ said Peter, gently mocking her.
‘Are you the social worker then?’ Jordan demanded.
‘No. He’s an even worse figure of authority – he’s a head teacher, believe it or not,’ said Mum. ‘Sit yourself down, Jordan. Flo, lend us your shawl, darling, I don’t want her getting cold again.’ She leaned forward and put her hand on Jordan’s forehead.
‘Get off me!’ Jordan snarled.
‘I’m seeing if you’ve got a temperature. Have you got a thermometer anywhere, Flo? Jess, make Jordan another hot chocolate. Jump to it!’
‘I guess I’m just the waitress around here,’ I said.
‘You haven’t changed one bit, have you, Tracy Beaker?’ said Justine.
‘That’s my girl,’ said Peter.
‘I don’t want a hot chocolate! Just give me my clothes!’ Jordan yelled.
Mum held her by the elbows. Jordan struggled, but Mum hung on tightly. She’s got a very firm grip. I should know.
‘I can’t give you your clothes,’ she said. ‘They’re in the washing machine, soaking wet. I can stop the cycle and fish them out, but if you go round Cooksea like that, then people will think you’ve tried to drown yourself and they’ll have an ambulance on your tail in minutes. And I can’t lend you my clothes because they won’t fit, and apart from her shawl Flo’s clothes will be way too big.’
‘Charming,’ said Flo, draining her coffee. ‘I can’t help being a Two-Ton Tessie. It’s my glands, I’ll have you know. Is it hot chocolate for everyone? Could you make me one too, Jess, lovey, with a dollop of whipped cream on top?’
‘If you wander off in that nightie you’ll get stopped too,’ Mum continued. ‘In fact, you can’t wander off anywhere because I’m pretty sure you have got a temperature – if you’re not careful you’ll develop pneumonia and end up in hospital anyway.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Jordan. ‘I don’t care if I end up dead. And no one else cares either. Who’s come looking for me since I ran away? I might just as well chuck myself off a cliff.’
‘Well, you’ve got plenty to choose from round here,’ said Mum. ‘But I’m not going to let you, see. Because I care about you. I know what you’re going through. And so does Peter here. And even Justine.’
‘I ran away when I was your age,’ said Justine. ‘I thought I could fend for myself. I had it all sussed out. I ran off with a boyfriend.’
‘I wanted my boyfriend to come with me,’ said Jordan, more quietly now, ‘but he was too chicken.’
‘My guy stuck around a while. Long enough to get me into drugs and all sorts. I thought I was being so tough and daring. But it was a nightmare, living in a squat, never getting enough to eat, not even having a proper wash. Is that what you want?’ Justine asked.
‘But look at you now. You seem so cool and smart,’ Jordan pointed out.
‘Because I got nicked stealing something, and then I was back in care, and then I did a course at college and got a job in an office – even did a bit of modelling,’ said Justine.
‘Yeah, like that’s going to happen to me,’ said Jordan.
‘She’s got her own business now – well, she did have,’ said Mum. ‘And a famous boyfriend.’
‘Ha!’ said Justine.
I didn’t want to miss a word of this, but I went to make the hot chocolate. I was still worried that Jordan would rush off in her borrowed nightdress. I could see her running wildly down to the seafront, clambering up the cliff path, teetering on the edge …
But when I came back in, I saw that she was sitting in Peter’s chair and he was squatting beside her, talking quietly. She looked much calmer now.
Mum was squeezed up beside Justine and they seemed to be chatting like old friends. Mum even patted her on the shoulder – and she didn’t push her away, she just smiled wanly.
Flo was leaning forward, craning her head this way and that, as if switching madly between two fascinating soap operas.
I handed round hot chocolates, giving the creamiest one to Jordan. She nodded at me and sipped it gratefully. She was already looking a bit better.
I sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Alfie. He nudged against me happily, his soft head burrowing into my neck. I put my arms round him.
‘Are you OK, Jess?’ Mum asked, looking over at me. ‘You’re a little star.’
‘I wish I had a daughter,’ said Justine.
‘Well, there’s still heaps of time.’
‘If I had a baby, do you think Sean would stop playing around and be a proper father?’ Justine asked.
I tried to imagine a Sean Godfrey baby daughter, with his silly haircut and huge shoulders and a too-tight babygro. It was a pretty scary thought.
‘I think Sean would be a good father,’ Mum said thoughtfully.
‘No he wouldn’t!’ I said quickly. ‘He was ever so mean to me. He wouldn’t even let me feed Alfie.’
‘He wouldn’t let you feed Alfie titbits while you were eating, that’s all. He did try with you, Jess. And he’s been great with Tyrone,’ said Mum.
‘Why are you sticking up for him when you don’t want him any more?’ I asked.
‘I’m just being truthful, that’s all. He’d probably be a great father. But I don’t think it would stop him playing around, Justine. That’s just the way he is,’ said Mum. ‘If you think he’ll change, it’ll break your heart. But you could look the other way and try not to mind. Lots of women do. But not me.’
‘I can’t see Peter playing away!’ said Justine, turning to look at him. ‘It’s weird seeing him so kind of grown up and sensible and – and headmasterly!’
‘I know,’ said Mum.
‘And you’re a serious item?’ Justine had lowered her voice, but I still heard her clearly.
I strained forward.
‘Well, it’s early days yet,’ Mum murmured, glancing over to see if I was listening. ‘We’ll have to see.’
‘But you’d like it to be serious?’
Mum hesitated and then nodded.
I clutched Alfie tightly, peering across at Peter. I tried to imagine him as Mum’s boyfriend. What if they really did get serious and we lived with him? It would be a serious squash upstairs. I hoped I wouldn’t be sent downstairs to sleep in Flo’s room. For all I’d been longing to find Mum a boyfriend, I really liked it best when it was just Mum and me, th
e way it used to be.
Even so, I liked Peter. I liked him a lot. He was kind and friendly and he loved books. You’d feel safe with him. He’d be a lovely head teacher, not scary like Mrs Michaels at my old school.
Mum thought he liked guys instead of girls – but she was clearly wrong. She had always joked about him when she talked about her childhood. She was the one who’d given him the nickname Weedy Peter.
Peter himself was still talking to Jordan, discussing placements and residential homes and all sorts of other stuff. He said several children at his school were in care and they were all doing well, though a couple had had various issues at first.
‘Yeah, I’ve got plenty of them issues!’ said Jordan. ‘OK, if I stick around here, perhaps I’ll come to your school and sit exams and stuff, if you think it’s important.’
‘Well, let’s see if it’s possible,’ said Peter. ‘If your local authority wanted to send you all the way to Manchester, I can’t see why they wouldn’t support you here – but it’s going to be very difficult to find you somewhere suitable.’
‘No it isn’t,’ said Jordan. ‘It’s easy-peasy. I’ll stay here!’
‘Here in Cooksea?’
‘Here with Tracy and Jess and the Lilliput lady.’
‘Bless!’ Flo murmured.
‘I don’t think that would be possible,’ said Peter.
‘Yes it is!’ Jordan raised her voice. ‘Tracy?’
‘Yes, Jordan?’ said Mum.
‘You can foster me!’
‘What? But I’m not a foster parent, sweetheart. Jess is my daughter,’ Mum pointed out.
‘And I could be your foster daughter,’ said Jordan.
‘I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen, Jordan, much as I’d like to,’ said Mum.
‘Why isn’t it?’ she demanded.
‘Well, for starters, there aren’t any spare bedrooms here.’
‘There’s a little box room full of junk next to your bedroom – I looked. I could squeeze in there. I could have one of them camp beds. Anything would be more comfortable than a beach shelter,’ said Jordan.
I blinked. Mum and I had made plans.
‘That’s going to be Jess’s room,’ Mum said gently.
‘We could share. We’d love that, wouldn’t we, Jess?’ Jordan was looking at me, her eyes wide and pleading. I didn’t know what to say.
‘It’s not up to Jess,’ said Mum, trying to get me off the hook.
‘But we’re best friends,’ said Jordan. ‘Aren’t we, Jess?’
I’d always longed for a proper best friend, but it hadn’t been easy to find one. When Mum and I lived with Cam, all her girls were much older than me. Then, when I went to Duke Primary, my classmates already had best friends and I was a bit left out. I ended up with Tyrone for a mate, even though he’d started off being my worst enemy. All things considered he didn’t really qualify as a best friend. I’d thought Alice was a true best friend. We used to have fun together – but when she came to Cooksea she seemed to have changed. We didn’t really know what to say to each other. And she’d found a new best friend at her posh school anyway.
In my head I had an ideal best friend – a girl just like me, who was shy inside even though she was learning to stick up for herself, a girl who liked reading and drawing and playing pretend games. But she was imaginary. Jordan was real. We didn’t have a thing in common and she was a bit tough and scary and she was older too – but somehow we’d become really close. You couldn’t help it, huddled under a blanket together.
‘Yeah, we’re best friends,’ I said. ‘Sort of.’
Jordan’s eyes went all watery and she smiled at me.
‘Well, that’s great,’ said Mum, ‘but I still couldn’t be a foster parent. You have to be vetted and do all kinds of special training and go to interviews where they delve into your background. Given my history I’d be the last person they’d want.’
‘I think you’d actually make a great foster parent, Tracy,’ said Peter. ‘You’ve got a lifetime’s experience of the care system.’
‘Speak for yourself, Peter!’ said Mum.
‘Well, I’ve sometimes wondered about fostering myself, but I’m always so tied up at work – and it’s harder if you’re a single guy,’ he said.
‘But you’re not a single guy now you and Tracy have got together,’ said Justine. She chuckled. ‘You two could start your very own children’s home. You could be the new Mike and Jenny. The Peter and Tracy Dumping Ground.’
‘Well, I know we wouldn’t call it that. I’m sure that nickname would be frowned on nowadays. What do children call residential homes now, Jordan?’ Peter asked.
‘Prison,’ she said shortly.
‘Well, Cam’s girls call it home,’ I said.
‘I’m going to phone her,’ said Mum. ‘Where is your children’s home Jordan?’
‘No! Don’t phone her,’ said Jordan.
‘Listen …’ Mum went over and held her by the shoulders. Jordan told her and Mum said, ‘I think that’s quite near Cam. I’m pretty certain she can’t take you and, even if she agrees, there’ll be all kinds of boring procedures. But let’s try, because it’s your best option – way better than being shipped off to Manchester or wherever. I know you’ll like it there. Cam’s my mum – and if she hadn’t fostered me, goodness knows where I’d have ended up.
‘Settle down with her and stop running away, OK? And meanwhile I’ll have a serious think about fostering. I’ll talk it over properly with Jess and Flo, and I’ll have a chat with the fostering service, and then, you never know, you might be able to come and live with us. What do you think?’
‘I don’t like all this might stuff,’ said Jordan. ‘Why won’t you promise and say definitely?’
‘Because I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep,’ said Mum. ‘I want to be straight with you. We don’t know each other properly. We only met this morning! But if you’re at Cam’s we’ll come and visit you – and you can visit us – and, even if the fostering idea falls through, you can still be our friend. We’re kind of alike, you and me.
‘Will you teach me how to kick-box?’ Jordan asked.
Justine snorted. ‘You don’t want to do that. I’m sure I’ve still got the bruises on my bum from when Tracy floored me,’ she said. Her phone bleeped and she fished it out of her bag and stared at the screen. Her face went pink.
‘Is it Sean?’ said Mum.
‘Yes! He’s wondering where on earth I am. And he says – well, never mind what he says. But he sounds like he cares.’ Justine texted rapidly, a little smile on her face.
‘Really?’
‘I know, I know. But maybe I was getting the wrong end of the stick before. That’s what he says. And I don’t always get it right. After all, I was convinced he was still seeing you, and you swear he’s not. You do swear, don’t you?’ said Justine.
‘I swear,’ said Mum.
‘She’s definitely not seeing him,’ I assured her.
‘She’s seeing me,’ said Peter.
Another text pinged on Justine’s phone. She read it, her smile getting wider. ‘Looks like I’m still seeing Sean!’ She looked at Mum. ‘I know you think I’m a fool, but I don’t care. He’s the man of my dreams. And I’m going to start trusting him.’
‘What was it my old granny used to say?’ said Flo. ‘Never trust a man, a shilling’s your best friend.’
Jordan looked at me, screwing up her face. ‘What are they on about?’
‘Just boyfriends,’ I said.
She came over to me. ‘Do you think your mum means it when she says she might foster me?’ she whispered.
‘I think so,’ I said.
‘And what do you feel about it, Jess? You wouldn’t mind?’ she asked huskily.
‘Of course not,’ I said, though I wasn’t exactly telling the truth.
I really wanted Mum all to myself, even though I knew that was probably very selfish. But if Mum and Peter were going to be an item, mayb
e it would be good to have a friend to hang out with. A foster sister. You didn’t have to get on with your sister all the time. Alice was always falling out with Ava. But deep down, even when they were yelling at each other, they cared.
‘Maybe it would be fun,’ I said.
‘You’re as bad as your mum. Might this, maybe that. It would be great!’ said Jordan.
‘You wouldn’t try to make me shoplift?’ I whispered.
‘Well, there would be no need, would there, because Tracy would give us lots of make-up and designer clobber.’
‘No she wouldn’t. We’re dead poor! Mum’s always saying we can’t afford stuff. And I don’t wear make-up or designer things anyway, I’m too young.’
‘Yeah, I keep forgetting you’re just a little kid. I’ll be like your big sister,’ said Jordan.
‘That doesn’t mean you can boss me about.’
‘It means I’ll look out for you and make sure no one picks on you.’
‘What if they snatch my ice cream?’ I said, grinning.
‘I’ll flatten them,’ said Jordan, grinning back.
Alfie came and wagged his tail, happy to see us smiling. Jordan rubbed his head, making his ears waggle. He usually dislikes it when people do that and backs away, growling – but he seemed happy enough when Jordan did it.
‘Can Alfie be my dog too?’ she asked.
I wasn’t ready to go that far. ‘You can have your own dog. Alfie would love a playmate,’ I said.
‘Can I really?’ said Jordan. ‘Oh wow! I’m going to get one of those amazing huskies with blue eyes just like mine.’
‘No huskies,’ said Peter firmly. ‘I know they’re beautiful, but they’re pack animals. They were bred to pull sledges. They need to live with other dogs and go for really long runs every day.’
‘My husky could join up with Alfie and pull Jess and me along the seafront in a sledge,’ said Jordan. ‘That would be so cool.’
‘Cruel, not cool. You need a huge garden to keep a husky happy,’ Peter insisted. ‘They need the right environment to thrive, otherwise they cause havoc.’
We Are the Beaker Girls Page 16
