Desperate Measures (18 page)

At break-time Maxine and I were walking along the corridor when we saw Charlene Slackton. She was standing by the noticeboard with Manky Matt. She had her arms round his neck.

As we walked past she said to me, ‘What you staring at Der-Brain?’ She looked at me nastily but I stopped and looked straight back at her.

‘I’m not a Der-Brain,’ I said.

I didn’t feel scared of her any more. Do you know, I just felt cross. She got on my nuckets.

I walked right up to her. I could see lots of spots underneath her orange make-up.

‘I’m not a Der-Brain,’ I said again.

She took a step back, and wobbled a bit on her high heels.

‘Only joking . . .’ she said.

Manky Matt grinned at me. Charlene turned to him.

‘What’s up with you?’ she said.

‘Nothing,’ he said but he stopped smiling straight away.

When I walked home with Vicky after school I told her what happened and she laughed.

‘It’s not funny,’ I said. ‘Charlene Slackton’s a bully.’

‘Bet you she won’t bully you any more,’ Vicky said.

‘She better not pick on Maxine either,’ I said.

At the weekend, Sandy took us to see Paul and Sarah. Sarah had come home from hospital. We went in and Paul was smiling all the time and he said come and meet our new addition. I didn’t understand what he meant but we followed him upstairs into my old bedroom with the new fluffy duck and rabbit curtains. Sarah was standing next to a wooden cot, and she was smiling too and holding a tiny doll wrapped up in a soft white blanket except it wasn’t a doll. It was a baby. A real live baby.

‘Her name’s Grace,’ said Paul, stroking her head with his little finger. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’

I had a good look but I wasn’t too sure. She didn’t look a bit like Baby Emma even before I poked out her eyes. She had lots of tufts of black hair at the sides of her head but was bald on top like a little old man and she went all red and wrinkly when she cried. But Vicky said she was the most gorgeous baby she had ever seen so I had another look. Then I put out my finger and Grace grabbed hold of it and wouldn’t let it go for ages but I didn’t mind at all because her hand was soft and podgy.

Sarah let me and Vicky take turns to hold her. She showed us the right way so we wouldn’t drop her and Grace wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Paul and Sarah were still smiling and I felt good because they were happy even though there was nowhere to sit down with all the baby
stuff and mess everywhere.

‘We’re going to live with Dad again,’ I told them.

‘That’s fantastic,’ said Paul. ‘But we’ll miss you all.’

‘Would you like another doll as a present?’ Sarah asked me. I had told her what had happened to Baby Emma at the lake and she was sorry. She knew I’d had Baby Emma ever since I was little.

‘No thank you,’ I said. ‘I’m probably too old for dolls now. Actually, I don’t even believe in Father Christmas or that Mrs Frankish is a witch any more.’

I thought for a second. ‘I still like little china penguins that bring you luck, though. I’m not too grown-up for them.’

‘Maybe we could get you one of those then?’ said Paul with a smile.

‘No need.’ I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the little penguin Elizabeth gave me. ‘I’ve already got one. And it’s very lucky.’

I told them about Elizabeth and her big spooky house and how she saved us from the dogs in the garden.

‘We’re going to go back and see her one day. She lives quite near Daniel.’

‘So who’s Daniel?’ asked Sarah.

Vicky went bright red.

‘Vicky’s boyfriend,’ I giggled.

‘He’s not!’ said Vicky loudly but her eyes were all bright and she was grinning.

‘Vicky?’

At the sound of Daniel’s voice, I felt a net full of butterflies flap excitedly inside my stomach.

‘How’s it going?’ he asked.

I could hear Jip barking in the background and wished they were both with me, right here, right now, instead of miles away down the other end of a very long phone line.

‘We’re going to live with Dad on Saturday,’ I told him.

‘At last . . . Bet you can’t wait.’

‘Sandy’s been fantastic, but you’re right. We’re all really excited. And Re’s had her stuff packed for over a week now.’

Daniel laughed.

Then he said something I’d never expected to hear.

‘I’ve . . . I’ve got some news too. I’m back at school now.’

‘Really?’

‘My parents sorted it and I went in yesterday.’ He gave another small laugh. ‘Nearly walked straight out again but I’m glad I didn’t.’

‘Why, Daniel? Why did you change your mind?’ There was a silence. What on earth had happened, I wondered.

‘Something to do with this girl I met.’

‘Oh.’ A sudden dart of jealousy stabbed me hard, instantly puncturing all my hopes and dreams.

‘Vicky? You still there?’

‘Um. Yes . . . course.’ I forced myself to sound cheery. ‘So . . . you . . . you met a girl then? I mean great, that’s great. What’s she . . . Is she . . . ?’ I trailed off miserably.

‘She’s you . . . actually.’

Blushing like a beetroot, I punched the air, dancing in silent celebration. Thank goodness he couldn’t see me.

‘But . . . I never said you should go back to school.’

‘No, but you sort of made me think about stuff. Face up to things I didn’t want to face up to.’

‘So was it OK? What happened?’

‘It was all right. As much as double maths followed by double French can be on a wet Monday afternoon. It was weird being around so many other people. I suppose I’ll get used to it.’

‘What about the other kids?’

‘There’s a couple of lads I’m friendly with. We played footie together at break. They seem OK.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘If . . . if anyone tries to take the mickey – and they haven’t yet – I think I can handle it now.’

I thought back to that last day at the lake when I’d nearly
drowned and how he’d kept so calm and in control. I remembered the look on his face when he handed back the mobile to the beady-eyed girl and told her to get lost.

‘You’ll be fine, Dan. I know you will.’

‘I meant to tell you,’ he said. ‘I went back to the cave. I found something on the floor.’

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘It’s a surprise. When you’ve got your new address, let me know and I’ll send it to you.’

‘OK. Thanks.’ I wondered if it was one of Re’s Barbies or even the map we’d bought.

‘I really miss you, Vicky,’ he said suddenly.

The fluttering butterflies in my stomach went loopy, turning backflips in unison. If I were Rosie I could have instantly replied with something brilliant, witty and wonderful. But I’m me, so my best shot was to tell him the truth.

‘I miss you too.’

‘Come up and stay in the holidays,’ he said urgently. ‘It’s not long away. I’ve already asked my parents. They’re cool. They can even lend you our big family tent and camp beds and – you can all come and stay the whole week.’ He stopped. ‘I mean . . . that is . . . if . . . if you want to . . .’

‘Daniel, I would love to.’

The next day at school I mentioned Daniel to Rosie.

‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘I’ve had my suspicions you’ve been concealing a romantic attachment.’

She leant closer.

‘So what’s he like? You really fancy him, don’t you?’

‘“Fancy”, Rosie?
Fancy?
Exactly who have you been hanging around with, while I’ve been away?’ I teased.

‘Fancy is a perfectly acceptable word – I think you’ll find the great William Shakespeare himself uses it in —’

‘Come on,’ I interrupted, taking her arm. ‘Let’s go and sit on the bench. I’ll tell you all about Daniel.’

We sat down under the big oak tree and watched the younger kids chasing around like manic puppies. On the other side of the playground I saw Re and Maxine giggling happily together in the sunshine.

‘I want to tell you something about my dad too,’ I said. ‘It was a big secret once, but it’s not any more.’

Vicky says the Prison Housing Adviser has arranged for Dad and us to live in a flat on the other side of town.

‘But I don’t want to live in a flat on the other side of town,’ I told her. ‘I want to live near Daniel in a cottage with a big garden and have chickens and pet rabbits and grow veggies with Dad.’

‘We can’t Re,’ she said. ‘Dad said we’re really lucky to get this flat.’

‘I suppose so. Maybe one day though?’

‘Maybe,’ she said. Then she smiled. ‘It would be perfect, wouldn’t it?’

‘Except Jamie would want a pongy goat,’ I said.

‘No way!’ she laughed. ‘They eat all your clothes if you stand too near them!’

‘What about Daniel?’

‘He’s invited us all up to stay in the holidays,’ she said all excited.

‘Really?’

‘I asked Dad on the phone last night if we can go.’

‘What did he say?’ I asked.

‘Yes . . . if we can afford it. And I’m going to make sure we can afford it. Seeing Paul and Sarah’s baby gave me an idea. Now I’m fourteen I can earn a bit of money baby-sitting.’

‘So we can go back to the island!’

‘Yes but not in that tatty boat, thanks very much . . .’ Vicky grinned at me. ‘Hey, remember when we went on pedalos at that theme park years ago? You, me and Mum in one and Dad and Jamie in the other.’

‘Yeah and Dad said let’s have a race.’

‘But we could only make our pedalo go backwards. And Dad was calling out instructions all serious but then Mum got the giggles and the more he tried to help the more she couldn’t stop laughing, so we just went round and round in circles till the man called us in . . .’

‘And afterwards she said it was the best boat ride she’d ever had,’ I said.

We both laughed. Vicky and me talk about Mum a lot now. Sometimes it makes me feel sad and I cry a bit because I know she’s not ever coming home but other times it makes me feel warm inside to think about her and remember things. I know she’s dead and her body doesn’t work any more but I still think her spirit is on our island. And so does Vicky.

It was early Saturday morning and there was a loud ring on Sandy’s doorbell.

‘Vicky!’ yelled Re from downstairs.

I glanced round our bedroom checking we’d got everything, picked up our suitcase (on loan from Sandy) and headed out to the landing. Jamie came charging past me and bounded down the stairs three at a time.

‘He’s here!’ he shouted to no one in particular. ‘Dad’s here!’

He flung open the door and he and Re threw themselves into Dad’s arms.

‘Whoa!’ Dad said, laughing as he lifted them off the ground.

‘All ready, Vicky?’ he asked me.

I nodded then ran over and hugged him too.

Sandy came up holding a large cake tin.

‘Had a spare half hour,’ she said, handing Re the tin. ‘Chocolate flapjacks.’

We all thanked her, for everything, then loaded our stuff into the boot of the taxi. We said our goodbyes and Sandy promised to come round the following week for tea. We climbed into the taxi and, as it drove away, waved to Sandy until we turned the corner at the end of her street.

After driving for about fifteen minutes, we pulled up outside a tall block of flats surrounded by other tall blocks. We unloaded our suitcase and bags as Dad paid the driver. I looked up at the concrete tower. Dad glanced at me nervously but I grinned back at him.

‘Relax, Dad. We wouldn’t mind living in a cardboard box as long as we could all stay together.’

‘Are we going to live in a box?’ asked Re.

‘No, we’re going to live up there,’ Dad pointed. ‘Tenth floor.’

Jamie and Re tried to count the levels to see which was our flat.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Let’s go up.’

Inside there was a lift and stairs. The lift was noisy and it made an odd rattling noise, which scared Re a bit so she clung on to Dad. We got out on the tenth floor and looked round. There were four flats each facing a different direction.

‘That’s ours,’ said Dad, indicating a tatty front door with
42
on it.

The front door opposite to ours opened. A lady in a sari came out holding a small child tucked on her hip and
a folded pushchair in the other hand. She glanced at us warily.

‘Hello,’ said Re. ‘We’re coming to live at number forty-two.’

‘Welcome,’ she said with a shy smile.

‘Thanks,’ I called as she disappeared into the lift.

Dad turned the key in our new front door and pushed it open.

‘It’s in a bit of a state,’ he said, picking up a brown envelope from the doormat. ‘But I can do it up, bit by bit. And there’s some furniture arriving soon.’

I looked round. Apart from a couple of suitcases and seven large cardboard boxes overflowing with saucepans, crockery, bedding and other stuff, the flat was empty. There was a little hallway, a sitting room, a kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms – a small one and an even smaller one. The people who lived here before us had liked bright orange, lurid purple and chocolate brown. A lot. Every room was decorated in a sickly mixture of those colours except for the bathroom, which was totally green – the walls, the floor, the ceiling – even the bath, toilet and sink.

‘If you and Re share the bigger bedroom, Jamie can have the box room and I’ll kip on the sofa, when it comes,’ said Dad.

He explained that the prison had fixed up some training for him, restoring furniture at a local project that helped ex-offenders back into work and they were going to deliver some bits and pieces so we’d have something to sit on and sleep in. It sounded like the same project Rosie said her dad
worked for when I told her all about my dad being in prison.

‘But I thought your dad ran some really posh antiques business,’ I’d told her. She looked at me and grinned.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ she said.

Jamie flung open a door in the sitting room.

‘Here’s the balcony!’ he called.

We followed him out. There was only just room out there for us all. Standing forlornly in the corner were a couple of flowerpots and there was a washing line strung across the width of the opening.

‘No garden, I’m afraid,’ mumbled Dad.

‘I can see a park!’ said Jamie, looking out at the fantastic view.