Caramel Hearts

by E. R. Murray

  I keep my eyes on the recipe book and shrug. I clench my jaw and feel the veins on my forehead throb. How do I explain that most things are about Dad when you think about it? If I hadn’t driven him away, Mam wouldn’t drink and there’d be no stealing, no making a mess of everything. And I wouldn’t have to find out about Mam through a stupid cookbook. She’d be right here.

  “Do you want to ask me stuff? It’s been a while.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Surely she’s winding me up. After the time I tried to run away, Harriet decided it was best not to talk too much about him. “Too much” – meaning ever.

  “Quick, before I change my mind!” says Harriet.

  “OK. What was he like?”

  “Dark hair—”

  “No, I mean, as a dad.”

  I twiddle my own hair round my finger, wondering whether it’s the same texture as his.

  “He was always fooling and joking.”

  “Not like Mam.”

  “Liv… if you’re going to keep interrupting—”

  “I won’t. I’ll stop. Sorry! Go on…”

  “He plagued Mam and her friend, Rosa, in the kitchen – sneaking their cakes when they weren’t looking. Rosa had a beautiful little baby girl called Amber, about the same age as you. He used to put you in your bouncy chairs, side by side, and tickle you both till you could hardly breathe for giggling. Sometimes, he’d sit you on his lap and sing rock-a-bye baby, opening his knees like he was going to drop you. I always panicked and tried to catch you. It was part of the game.”

  “He sounds fun,” I say, wondering why she never told me this before.

  “Once, Mam had to go away somewhere and Rosa and Amber came to stay. Rosa and Dad baked a whole tray of cakes just for me. I ate them all and got really sick and had to go to bed early.”

  “Did Mam go nuts?”

  “I didn’t tell her. Dad said it probably wasn’t a good idea. Said it would get everyone in trouble, so we probably shouldn’t even mention Rosa was there at all. So I kept quiet. It was only years later I realized he was having an affair.”

  “You should have told her!” I say.

  “Would you have realized something like that when you were six? I knew there was something wrong, but didn’t really know what. Mam was happy back then, and I didn’t want to upset things.”

  “She never got cross? Or drunk?” I ask, finding it hard to believe.

  “Maybe a glass of wine with Dad or Rosa over dinner. She certainly didn’t smoke. There were mood swings, but they were rare. It was after they split up that she started getting angry. Sometimes you’d get scared, so I’d turn Mam’s records up a little bit.”

  “Maybe that’s why I like Johnny now? It’s all your fault!”

  “Maybe it is,” laughs Harriet, before falling silent. After a while, she adds, “Anyway, if I’d mentioned it, Dad would have gone off with Rosa even sooner.”

  For the first time ever, I understand why Dad left. Why Mam is still so gutted. She lost the two people closest to her at the same time, and was left stuck with us.

  “Mam’s friend went off with Dad? What a cow! But all this time, she’s been blaming me. If I’d been better behaved…”

  “She’s not coping – she’s just looking for a scapegoat and—”

  “I’m it? I’ve been hearing it since I was a kid, Hatty. A little kid!”

  “Oh Liv, sorry – I shouldn’t have said anything—”

  “You should have told me before! Maybe then I wouldn’t have spent my whole life feeling bad about something I didn’t do. You say you want to be a proper sister but you treat me like a baby.”

  Harriet chews on her lip, staring at the floor like she wants it to suck her in.

  “Sorry,” she says.

  A heavy silence fills the room. I mull the situation over in my head: how come I’m always on the receiving end? What gives Mam the right to pick on me all the time? It’s pathetic. I’ll never be like Mam. I’ll never let the wrong person take the blame. Taking a deep breath, I consider the situation properly. None of this is Hatty’s fault. I’ll have this out with Mam later, once the Social Services visit is over.

  “Hatty? Don’t be mad at me for the cookbook…”

  “I’m not. Not really. It’s only a cookbook. But why would she hide it?” Harriet taps the recipe book with her index finger. “Did you check it for Dad’s address?”

  “Every page.”

  We both stare at the cookbook, as though trying to decipher its special code.

  “Why was it under her pillow?” says Harriet, thinking out loud.

  “She’ll have got all maudlin about Dad with drink inside her. There were bottles around the place too.”

  Harriet gives a knowing nod.

  “Did you ever hear anyone call Mam ‘Happiness Bloom’?” I ask.

  Harriet shakes her head slowly. “No. Abigail doesn’t even sound anything like Happiness.”

  “I know. And I wonder what happened to Rosa.”

  “Dunno. We never heard any more once Dad ran off with her.”

  “I’d never do anything like that to a best mate! Can you imagine? I’d be lost without Sarah.”

  A faraway look crosses Harriet’s face and I realize what I’ve said.

  “Do you miss your friends?”

  “Yes. But it’s OK.”

  I know it’s not. All of Hatty’s mates are in Edinburgh and she’s stuck here with me. The friends she had here have all moved away. I make a mental note to try and spend a bit more time with her when I’m home, instead of in my room.

  “You’ll be back there soon,” I say, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.

  “Don’t worry about it,” says Harriet, overly cheerily. “You’re more important. You know that, right?”

  I angle my body away from hers. “Watch the mushy stuff, sis!”

  We burst into giggles.

  “OK, no more mushy stuff. But listen – Mam wanted to keep this secret, so we’d better not mention it to her. Promise me you won’t, even though you’re mad at her? Even if you lose your temper?”

  I nod, knowing full well I probably won’t keep my promise.

  Butterfly Cupcakes

  Butterflies are a symbol of rebirth, happiness and regeneration in Native American mythology – and it’s believed that certain butterflies and moths are visiting ancestral spirits. So, take heed of some ancient wisdom and come fly with me – high up in the sky above your woes and worries. You can thank the spirits later.

  INGREDIENTS

  175 g/6¼ oz self-raising flour

  115 g/4 oz caster sugar

  115 g/4 oz soft butter, chopped into small cubes

  2 big fat eggs

  50 ml/1½ fl oz creamy milk

  1 tsp baking powder

  FOR THE BUTTER CREAM ICING

  150 g/5¼ oz softened golden butter

  ½ tsp sweet vanilla extract

  275 g/10 oz sifted icing sugar

  HOW TO MAKE THE MAGIC HAPPEN

  1. Preheat the oven to 180 °C/350 °F/Gas mark 4 and line a 12-cake baking tray with paper cases.

  2. Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Make a decent-sized well in the centre of the bowl. Break the eggs into the well, make a wish and add the butter. Beat the ingredients together (an electric mixer is faster, but less fun!) until combined. Pour in half the milk and beat again until the mixture is light and creamy. You can add splashes of the rest of the milk if you need to – but stop as soon as the dough looks gorgeous.

  3. Dollop the batter into the paper cases and bake in the oven for 15–20 minutes. You know they’re ready when they’re firm and light brown on top. Let the cupcakes stand for a minute before moving to a wire rack to cool. When the cakes are cool, cut a circular lid out of the top and set aside (these will be your wings).

  4. It’s time for the icing! Beat the butter and vanilla extract in a bowl until light and fluffy as air. Add the icing sugar a little at a time, until it is al
l added and the mixture is smooth and silky. Separate the icing into a few different bowls and add a dab of food colouring to each.

  5. Spoon the icing onto the cupcakes. You can mix the icing colours if you like – look at some beautiful butterflies for inspiration and let your creativity fly! Now, slice each top in half and stick into the butter cream icing to add your wings.

  For an extra cute touch, add a few candied violet or rose petals as decoration. Or serve on leaf-shaped plates. It’s your time to shine.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Is This a Trick?

  As soon as I wake, I take out the recipe book and trace the inscription lightly with my fingertips. After revealing the cookbook to my sister, it feels even more special. Harriet seems to like what I make, and she likes that I have an interest. Maybe it will spark something in Mam when she comes home too? It might even bring us all closer. The idea puts a spring in my stride and, while I’m on a roll, I decide to tell Sarah about the other night with Mad Dog as we walk to school.

  “You’d better watch yourself,” says Sarah. “I’m telling you, Liv – I know you think she’s OK, but she’s two faced. Mad Dog’s dangerous.”

  “She’s acting weird and I don’t know how to take her – but dangerous? That’s a bit far-fetched.”

  I don’t mention the way she drew her finger across her throat. Absent-mindedly, Sarah strokes the bruise on her arm – it has spread now it’s healing, turning brown and yellowish in colour.

  “I don’t know why you keep hanging out with her anyway,” says Sarah.

  I chew my lip, deciding whether to tell her about Jack.

  “What?” asks Sarah, picking up on my hesitation. “Go on – out with it!”

  “It’s… well… I’ve been hanging out with Jack more than her.”

  Eyes widening, Sarah demands every gritty detail – and although there isn’t much to tell, she’s suitably impressed.

  “I think he fancies you,” she says.

  And even though the idea is crazy, the day flies by. Nothing can spoil it. Not even double Maths all afternoon.

  “Watch out, Sarah,” I say as we leave Maths class. “Mad Dog’s near the exit.”

  Sarah’s body tenses as she readies herself for the inevitable. “You mean your b-best mate. Can’t you put another word in for me?”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “I still can’t decide whether you’re brave or stupid hanging out with her.”

  “She’s honestly not that bad,” I say, trying to ignore the image of Mad Dog drawing her finger across her throat. “She’s not too different from when we were kids. I think it’s just show.”

  “It’s official. You’ve finally lost it.”

  “She’ll get bored of picking on you and move on – you’ll see.”

  “Fingers crossed,” says Sarah, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  As soon as we step out onto the playground, the gang flocks towards us. Within moments, they have us surrounded – but instead of singling out Sarah, they turn to face me.

  “We’ve been making a list of people who’ve pissed us off lately, and guess what – you’re on it,” says Maddy, poking me in the chest and shoving me off balance. Then she turns to Sarah and offers a handshake. “Congratulations. You’re off the list.”

  Neither of us budges. Fear roots us to the spot and we’re thinking the same thing – is this a trick? She’s not a bestie like Sarah, but Maddy’s still a mate, and I’ve been getting on fine with the others. Sure, she’s been territorial over Jack, but I thought we were friendly enough for it to not really matter. Evidently I was wrong.

  “What are you gawping at me like that for?” Maddy asks Sarah. “It’s good news for you. But your friend here – well, she’s a small sacrifice for getting into our good books, don’t you think?”

  Sarah takes a small, tentative side-step, flinching as Maddy sticks out her arm. I wince too, but Maddy simply cups it around Sarah’s shoulders and pulls her round to face me.

  “You see,” continues Maddy, chewing loudly on her gum, “we’ve decided that you’ve had enough. You’ve responded well to our lessons, but your friend – ex-friend – here, has been sticking her neck out a bit too much for our liking. Thinks she’s better than everyone else. So now, it’s time for us to teach the slut a lesson.”

  Sarah doesn’t move – and neither do I – as it all falls into place. The chalked message on my path: I should have known. Mad Dog’s been looking for something to use as a weapon against me, and I walked right into the trap by talking to Jack. How could I be so stupid?

  “Do… do you m-mind me asking… what sh-she’s done?”

  “Yes, I mind. But you’re our friend now. Part of the gang.” Maddy pats Sarah with her free hand, like she’s a pet dog. “We reviewed the criteria for enemies. And we…” She gestures towards Emma, Zadie and Lorna, who quickly nod assent. “We decided we’re not interested in people with annoying habits any more.”

  At mention of it, Sarah’s face tenses and her lip quivers.

  “Sorry, Sarah, but that stutter of yours is rather annoying.”

  Sarah tries to formulate a reply, but the stutter leaves her unable to speak. The gang falls about in fits until Mad Dog silences them with a glare.

  “Shut up. We’re not after her any more.” The girls sober their faces and try to look sympathetic. Mad Dog slaps Sarah’s back. “See, that’s much better, isn’t it? I told you, you’re OK now.”

  Sarah fakes a thin, cautious smile.

  “We’ve been studying Animal Farm in English. It’s a great book, you should read it – teaches you a lot about people. So now we’re concentrating on people who think they’re better than us. People who go around trying to steal other people’s blokes. People who are really pigs. Like her.”

  Maddy leans towards me and snorts twice, loudly. When I flinch, everyone laughs – except for Sarah.

  “Don’t you agree, Sarah?” asks Maddy.

  “Well, I-I-I’m—”

  Mad Dog takes this as a good sign.

  “See, pig, your friend agrees with us.” She steps up to my face and grunts again. “Go on, your turn. Squeal, pig.”

  I pause, hoping she’s joking. Hoping she’ll start laughing, like she did that night at the shops, and say she doesn’t really mean it. Instead, Maddy checks behind her to make sure no one’s watching, then she grabs my arm. Reluctantly, I make a small noise, hating myself for being such a coward.

  “Now, say after me, Comrade – I am a ginger pig and I deserve everything I get.”

  Typical. My hair is the only feature I like about myself, and now it’s getting me into bother. Maddy twists my arm tighter and my elbow starts to burn.

  “I-I-I’m—” I stutter, finding it difficult to speak with the pain.

  “Ha!” roars Mad Dog. “I-it’s c-c-catching. Maybe you’re in the clear, Sarah?”

  The gang stifles giggles as their leader winks. I chance a glance at my best friend. Her stutter is in full flow. A strange gagging noise sounds in her throat. The harder she tries to control it, the worse it gets, and tears well in her eyes.

  “Ha! I guess even I can be wrong sometimes,” says Mad Dog.

  The gang let out a few small guffaws, keeping a close eye on Mad Dog’s expression. I wish I could vanish. Or spin myself into a safe little chrysalis like the Native American butterflies mentioned in the cupcake recipe. Then I would break free, fly high above the Egerton estates and everyone in them, leaving my troubles behind for good.

  An excruciating pain suddenly jolts me out of my daydream, as Maddy kicks my shin.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Say it! I’m a ginger pig and I deserve everything I get.”

  I meet Sarah’s eyes, before repeating the words slowly.

  “Again! Louder!”

  I mumble the words a second time. I might be a coward, but I don’t want everyone to know it.

  The gang chuckles. Emma cups her hand over her mouth. It magnifies
her amusement rather than hiding it, and some passing kids look in our direction.

  “Shush,” says Maddy. “We don’t want to attract attention.”

  Emma continues to grin, but quietens. Sarah was right all along – Maddy’s the leader, not the follower. When she’s certain no outsiders are watching, Mad Dog yanks my hair and I cry out in pain.

  “Listen to how the ginger slut squeals! Now snort, loudly – for everyone to hear. Show them what a disgusting little ginger pig you are.”

  As I perform a series of loud grunts, the group laughs – all except for Sarah.

  A small crowd of boys gathers, and a couple of the younger lads start joining in, hissing “Ginger pig! Ginger pig!” So much for not attracting attention! Egged on by the support, Maddy pulls a pair of scissors from out of her pocket. They’re small but sharp – the ones used in Art class for cutting card. She lets go of my hair as she waves the scissors in the air for everyone to see.

  “The only way to cure a ginger pig is to cut off its hair!” says Maddy, as a grand finale.

  Emma and the small crowd of boys gasp, but the other girls don’t react. It seems this was planned.

  There’s only one thing for it. I turn and leg it as fast as I can towards the fence behind the smokers’ corner.

  Chapter Twenty

  I Didn’t Know Pigs Could Cry!

  By the time I’ve cleared the fence, three of them have already caught up: Mad Dog, Emma and Zadie. Emma looks uncertain, hanging back behind the others. After a moment, Lorna arrives. She’s a strong girl – one of the school’s top athletes, with biceps to rival the boys’ – and she’s dragging Sarah behind her. I try to catch Sarah’s eye to plead “don’t do this”, even though I know Sarah has no choice. Sarah averts her eyes and stares at the ground.

  “Go on, Sarah, make the first cut,” says Mad Dog.

  Lorna shoves Sarah forwards, forcing the art scissors into her hands. Sarah freezes, mouth agape.

  “I said go on. Unless you want the same treatment.”

  Our eyes meet. Sarah’s face pales and her eyes fog over as she steps forward, visibly trying to blank out what is happening.