Clean Break

by Wilson, Jacqueline

  Dad saw me looking dismayed. ‘What’s up, Em? Want another ice cream?’

  ‘Dad, I’m meant to be on a diet.’

  ‘Don’t you take any notice of your gran. You eat all you want, darling. Come on, let’s go in the amusement arcade. I’ll see if I can win you all a present.’

  There were huge stuffed animals bigger than Maxie decorating the rifle stalls: cream camels with lolling pink tongues; fat elephants with huge flapping ears and tiny twinkly eyes; stripy zebras with stiff black-and-white manes and thick black eyelashes; spotted amber giraffes with long swaying necks and short tufty tails.

  Vita and Maxie and I gazed at these luxury animals in awe. Then we looked hopefully at Dad.

  ‘No way, kids. It’s all a con. I’d never win enough points,’ Dad said.

  He tried all the same, changing a ten-pound note into coins, shooting over and over again.

  ‘Tough luck, sir,’ the young girl stallholder kept saying, eyeing Dad up and down.

  ‘It is tough, darling, when my kids have set their hearts on one of your lovely animals and I haven’t got a hope in hell of winning one,’ said Dad, giving her his special smile. ‘Hey, you’ve already had one tenner off me. How about I give you another and you make my kids deliriously happy with a camel?’

  ‘I wish I could,’ said the girl, sidling up close to Dad and giving him a little smirk. ‘But the camels are all counted.’

  ‘An elephant? A zebra? What about that giraffe over in the corner with a wonky neck?’

  ‘My boss would go bananas,’ said the girl. ‘I can’t, I truly can’t, not unless you win fair and square.’

  ‘But you know and I know there’s no way you can win,’ said Dad. ‘It’s not fair and it’s not square.’

  ‘That’s life,’ said the girl, shrugging. ‘Here, your kids can have these as a little consolation prize, eh?’ She threw us a packet of jellybeans each. ‘Maybe you can come back later . . . without the kids?’

  Dad laughed and whispered something in her ear.

  Vita glared and tugged at his arm. ‘Come on, Dad,’ she said crossly.

  Dad pulled a funny face. ‘Sorry, Princess Vita. I’m simply trying to sweet-talk that girl into letting you have a special camel. Still, never mind, let’s win you a teddy instead,’ he said, stopping at one of those crane machines. Rainbow-coloured teddies were stuffed against the glass, squashed in so tightly their snouts twisted sideways and their beady eyes bulged.

  ‘Uh-oh! They’re so crammed in I’ll never be able to pull them out,’ said Dad.

  ‘But I want one,’ said Maxie, standing on tiptoe so that he was eye to eye with the huddle of bears.

  ‘You’ve got hundreds of bears at home, little guy,’ said Dad.

  ‘But I haven’t got a stripy one. I want this one, Mr Stripy,’ said Maxie, stabbing the glass with his sticky finger.

  ‘I want a bright pink one. It’s exactly the colour of Dancer’s nose. They can be best friends. Please please please win me the pink one, Dad,’ said Vita pleadingly, jumping up and down.

  Dad rolled his eyes and then looked at me. ‘OK, Princess Emerald, I suppose you want an emerald-green teddy,’ he said.

  ‘It’s OK, Dad,’ I said, though I did want one badly. I wanted a very small green bear with bright blue eyes and an anxious expression.

  ‘It’s that one, isn’t it?’ said Dad, pointing to my blue-eyed bear.

  ‘You’re magic, Dad,’ I said semi-seriously.

  ‘I’ll do my best to win you your teddies, but it’s not going to be easy,’ said Dad.

  He changed another ten-pound note and then started manoeuvring the crane. It was the most unwieldy thing ever, the metal claws brushing past each bear uselessly. Sometimes it held onto a paw or an ear or a little snout but after a tug or two it swung away again, empty.

  We watched goggle-eyed, holding our breath each time the crane hovered. All four of us went ‘Ooooh’ at each failure.

  On the very last go Dad managed to capture a little lopsided yellow bear that clung onto the crane grimly with one paw.

  ‘Is he mine, Dad?’ asked Vita.

  ‘I really wanted Mr Stripy, but the yellow one might do instead,’ said Maxie, though he didn’t sound sure.

  ‘The yellow ted isn’t for you, Maxie. He isn’t for you either, little Vita.’

  ‘Is he for me, Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart, he’s already taken,’ said Dad. ‘He’s mine.’

  ‘Are you going to call him Mr Yellow?’ asked Maxie.

  ‘No, my little bear’s called Ray.’

  ‘That isn’t a very special name,’ said Vita.

  ‘Yes it is, darling. He’s my little Ray of Sunshine. He’s going to remind me of our happy day together.’

  We had one last longing look at Mr Stripy, Pinky and little Blue-Eyes. Then we went out of the amusement arcade, gripping hands and shivering all the way down to the end of the windy pier where the rides were. Maxie cowered away from the dodgem cars and squealed in horror at the great waltzer hurtling round and round.

  ‘You’re such a pain, Maxie,’ Vita grumbled. ‘You’re always too scared to go on anything.’

  ‘No I’m not,’ Maxie insisted. ‘I do want to go on one of the rides. I want to go right up in my tower.’

  We looked at the pink-and-red-striped helter-skelter tower.

  ‘I don’t think it’s really got a golden throne inside, Maxie,’ I whispered.

  ‘I know,’ said Maxie. ‘That was just a story, wasn’t it, Dad? But it can still be my tower, can’t it?’

  ‘Of course it’s your tower, Maxie. You’re very generous and you’re happy to share it with Vita and Em and me and all these other people too. But it’s going to be dark inside – is that OK?’

  ‘Of course it’s OK,’ said Maxie bravely.

  Dad paid for us all to go into the helter-skelter and climb up and up and up the steps to the top.

  ‘See, Vita, I’m not the slightest bit scared,’ said Maxie, his voice just a little squeak.

  Vita didn’t argue. She didn’t like it much herself. Halfway up she hung onto my hand and wouldn’t let go. When we got to the top at last a man was handing out coconut mats.

  ‘Can I share your golden throne, Maxie?’ said Dad, sitting on the mat and pulling Maxie onto his lap.

  The man pushed them out onto the slide and they vanished into thin air. We heard Maxie shrieking.

  ‘I don’t think I want to,’ said Vita. ‘Let’s go back down the stairs.’

  ‘We can’t, Vita, there are people coming up behind us.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘They will. Come on. We’ll go on a mat together. It’ll be OK, you’ll see,’ I said.

  ‘Aren’t you scared, Em?’ said Vita.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘You’re shaking.’

  ‘I’m cold. Now come on, get on the mat with me.’

  I sat on the mat and Vita perched on my lap, hanging onto my legs tightly with her little pincer fingers. The man gave us a big push and then we were off, out into the dark night, flying round and round and round, the wind in our face and the sea swooshing far below and the lights twinkling all along the promenade. It was as if we’d stepped straight into one of Dad’s magic stories. I never ever wanted it to end. It was a shock shooting abruptly right off the slide and landing on the ground, though Dad was there, picking us both up.

  ‘Can we do it again?’ we all begged.

  Dad gave us another go. This time I took charge of Maxie and Vita flew with Dad. I wished I could have one go on Dad’s mat, but Vita was too little to manage Maxie and I knew I was way too big to share with Dad.

  I wondered if I should really try sticking to my diet and cutting out all my secret snacks – but when Dad suggested fish and chips for supper I didn’t object.

  I got frightened when I saw the clock in the fish restaurant. Dad saw me looking.

  ‘Don’t worry, Em, it’s not twelve o’clock yet. We’re
not going to turn into pumpkins.’

  Vita and Maxie giggled. I waited, eating chip after chip. I ate half of their chips too, trying to get up the courage to ask Dad something.

  ‘You did tell Mum and Gran you were taking us out, didn’t you, Dad?’

  He shook his head at me. ‘You’re such an old fusspot, Em. You’re my kids. I don’t have to ask permission to take you for a fun time.’

  I loved it that Dad included me as his kid. But the little worry inside me was getting bigger and bigger.

  ‘But Dad, if you didn’t tell them, won’t they be wondering where we are?’

  ‘Just leave it, Em. Don’t spoil things,’ said Dad.

  ‘Yes, shut up, Em,’ said Vita. ‘And stop eating my chips. I want to make a little log-cabin house with them.’

  ‘Yes, shut up, shut up, shut up,’ Maxie chanted.

  Gran always tells us off it we say shut up. Maxie said it over and over again, showing off.

  They were both starting to be silly because they were tired out. I was tired too. I felt my eyes pricking with baby tears because Dad had been sharp with me. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to spoil things. But I couldn’t help thinking about Mum and Gran and how worried they would be.

  ‘Maybe we could ring Mum?’ I mumbled.

  ‘There’s no point. We’re going to go home now – if that’s what you want,’ said Dad.

  ‘No, it’s not what we want,’ said Vita. ‘We want to stay out with you, Dad. We want to stay out all night.’

  ‘Yes, all night,’ said Maxie, though his eyes kept drooping and his chin was on a level with his cluttered plate.

  I bit my lip. I didn’t say any more. Dad paid the bill and picked up Maxie.

  ‘Me too,’ Vita wailed, holding her arms up like a toddler.

  Dad did his best to carry her as well. I stumped along behind.

  ‘Tell you what, Em,’ said Dad, struggling to turn round to me. ‘We could all check into a little hotel as the kids are so tired. Then we can drive back tomorrow.’

  ‘But . . . but we haven’t got our pyjamas or our washing things,’ I said anxiously. ‘And we wouldn’t be back in time for school tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be so boring. You sound more middle-aged than your grandmother,’ Dad snapped.

  I couldn’t keep back the tears this time. Dad saw. He stopped. He knelt down with difficulty, Vita and Maxie hanging from either shoulder like rucksacks.

  ‘Em. Em, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t being serious. I was just playing with the idea. I don’t want tonight to end, darling.’

  ‘I don’t either, Dad,’ I sobbed. ‘I don’t mean to be boring. We can manage without night things – Maxie doesn’t even wear pyjamas. It would be great to miss school. It’s just . . . Mum might think we’re never coming back.’ I thought of Mum worrying so and I cried harder.

  ‘Don’t cry, Em. Please. I can’t cuddle you properly with these two. Come nearer, sweetheart. There now. Dry those tears, Princess Emerald. You’re the brave little girl who looks after us all and never cries, right? Don’t, darling, you’re breaking my heart.’

  ‘I’ve stopped now, Dad,’ I sniffed.

  ‘It’s OK, baby. I’m going to take you home now. It’s going to be all right, Princess Emerald. I’m ordering up your silver carriage right this minute.’

  Dad and I settled Vita and Maxie on the back seat.

  ‘Do you want to curl up in the back too, Em? You look exhausted.’

  ‘No, I want to sit with you, Dad.’

  I was too anxious to go to sleep. Dad tried telling me elaborate Princess Emerald stories all the way home but I couldn’t concentrate properly. He kept losing the thread himself, so that it all started to sound like a dream. We jumped from the princess’s palace to her marble swimming pool, but then we were swimming with dolphins way out in the ocean. I started to wonder if it was all a dream and I’d wake up all over again on Christmas morning. It would really be the best Christmas ever and Dad wouldn’t walk out.

  Then we drew up outside our house. The lights were all on. The front door opened and Mum and Gran came running down the front path. They were both crying.

  Mum gave me a huge hug and then delved in the back of the car for Vita and Maxie. They were so fast asleep she couldn’t wake them up. She started shaking them frantically.

  ‘Vita! Maxie!’

  ‘Hey, hey, they’re fine. Don’t worry,’ Dad said gently.

  ‘Don’t worry?’ said Mum.

  She pulled Vita and Maxie out of the car and tried to carry them both, though their weight made her buckle.

  ‘Let me carry them, darling,’ said Dad.

  ‘Darling?’ said Mum. ‘For God’s sake, Frankie, stop torturing me. Are you coming back to us now, is that it?’

  Dad hesitated. ‘Oh, Julie. I still care for you so much. But I’ve got to be honest. I’m not coming back, my life is with Sarah now.’

  Mum’s chin shook. She pressed her lips together. Tears slid down her cheeks.

  ‘I wish I could be here. I wish I had the kids around me, I miss them so,’ said Dad. ‘I love them, Julie.’

  ‘How dare you!’ said Gran. She slapped Dad hard across his cheek, her bracelets jangling. ‘Do you have any idea how frantic we’ve been? We thought you’d abducted them. Did you know the police are out looking for you?’

  ‘For God’s sake, did you have to bring the police into it? I’m not a kidnapper, I’m their dad.’

  ‘What sort of a dad are you, walking off at Christmas, leaving them desperate, crying their little eyes out.’

  ‘Now come on, I didn’t do that, you know I didn’t. I tried hard to make it easy for everyone.’

  ‘This is easy?’ said Mum.

  ‘It’s not easy for me either,’ said Dad. ‘Can’t you quit shouting and slapping and making things so horrible and heavy. I wanted today to be lovely for the kids, a treat they’d remember for ever.’

  ‘Why?’ said Mum. ‘Are you clearing off for good, is that it?’

  ‘Well, Sarah’s had this offer with a Scottish theatre. I thought I’d go with her, see if I can maybe get work up there too. But don’t worry, babe, I’ll come back and see you and the kids as often as I can, even though the fare down is pretty huge.’

  ‘You save your money,’ said Gran. ‘Though most of it is my money that I was fool enough to lend you. We don’t want to see you ever again. Push off with your stupid little girlfriend and never ever come back.’

  ‘You don’t mean that,’ said Dad. He looked at Mum. ‘You don’t mean that, do you, Julie?’

  ‘Yes I do,’ said Mum. ‘Get lost, Frankie. I’m over you already. Let’s go for a clean break. I never want to see you ever again, do you hear me? Leave me and my kids alone.’

  Dad stared at her. One of his cheeks was still scarlet where Gran had slapped him. He rubbed it, looking dazed. Then he took a deep breath.

  ‘OK. If that’s the way you want it,’ he said. He looked at Vita and Maxie and me. ‘What do you want, kids?’

  I didn’t know what to say, what to do.

  I wanted to tell Dad I wanted to see him all the time.

  I wanted to tell Mum I didn’t ever want to see Dad ever again.

  I wanted and wanted, torn in two.

  Vita was sobbing now, exhausted.

  ‘What do you want, Princess Vita?’ Dad asked softly.

  ‘I want to go to bed,’ Vita wailed.

  Maxie was past saying anything. He was crumpled in a heap in the hallway, whimpering.

  ‘Look at the state you’ve got them in,’ said Mum. ‘What sort of a dad are you?’

  ‘OK, OK. I’m a lousy dad, a useless husband, a hopeless provider,’ Dad shouted. ‘Right then, I’ll make everybody happy. I’ll clear off out of your lives. We’ll go for a clean break.’

  He jumped back in his silver car, started the engine and zoomed off into the night.

  8

  DAD DIDN’T COME back. It looked
as if he meant it.

  A clean break.

  He sent Mum a cheque with a Scottish postmark on the envelope. He didn’t put his address. He didn’t write a letter either. He just scribbled on the back of the cheque, Love from Frankie and xxx to the kids.

  ‘That’s not a proper letter we can keep,’ I said sadly.

  ‘It’s not a proper cheque either,’ Gran sneered. ‘He still owes me thousands and yet he’s acting like Lord Bountiful sending your mum a cheque for a hundred pounds. As if that’s proper maintenance!’

  A hundred pounds seemed a huge amount to me. I thought of running round the Flowerfields shopping centre with a hundred gold coins in my school bag. I could go to the Bear Factory and buy a cuddly black cat with his own cute pyjamas; go to the bookshop and buy an entire set of Jenna Williams stories; go to Claire’s Accessories and buy all sorts of slides and scrunchies and glittery make-up; go to the Pick ’n’ Mix Sweetstore and choose a whole sackful of sweets . . . and I’d still have heaps left to buy presents for Vita and Maxie.

  Then I thought of all the boring stuff like bills in brown envelopes and cornflakes and loo-rolls and spaghetti and milk and Maxie’s new school shoes and Vita’s leotard for ballet and my new winter coat. Maybe a hundred pounds wasn’t very much after all.

  I put Dancer on my hand and made her talk to me.

  ‘Cheer up, Princess Emerald,’ she said. ‘Your dad won’t let you down. He’s the most wonderful man in the world, you know he is. I’m sure he’ll send another cheque soon. This time there’ll be a proper letter you can keep, just you wait and see.’

  I waited. Dad didn’t send anything. He didn’t pay his rent to the Pink Palace either. The fairies grew dusty behind their bars.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Mum said. ‘I can’t keep it on. I can’t be in two places at once. It never brought in much money even when Frankie was around. We’ll have to let it go.’

  ‘You can’t let them close Fairyland!’ I said, appalled. ‘What will Dad do when he comes back?’

  ‘Get this into your head once and for all, Em. He’s not coming back,’ said Mum, taking hold of me by the shoulders and speaking to me practically nose to nose.