Dare Game (8 page)

‘Men!’ I said sympathetically, in the tone Cam and Liz and Jane frequently used.

Mum looked at me and then burst into peals of laughter. I felt daft and swivelled round and round on Elaine’s chair.

‘Hey, don’t do that, you’re making me feel giddy. Come here! Haven’t you got a kiss for your mum after all this time?’

‘Sure,’ I said shyly, though I’m not really the kissy-kissy type.

Mum bent down, her head on one side. I pecked at her powdery cheek – and then the sweet smell of her made me suddenly clutch her tight.

‘Hey, hey, careful, sweetie! Watch my cigarette! No need
to
be so dramatic. Looks like
you’re
the little actress!’ She dabbed at my face. ‘Real tears!’

‘No they’re not,’ I said, sniffling. ‘I don’t ever cry. It’s hayfever.’

‘Where’s the hay?’ said Mum, peering round Elaine’s office. Her ash was building up again. She tapped it into Elaine’s special Bunnikins mug. I hoped Elaine would look inside before making herself a cup of coffee.

‘I get allergic to all sorts,’ I said, wiping my nose.

‘Hey, hey, haven’t you got a tissue?’ said Mum, tutting at me. ‘I hope you’re not allergic to
me
.’

‘Maybe it’s your perfume – though it smells lovely.’

‘Ah,’ said Mum, dabbing at me with her own tissue. ‘That’s my Poison. That pig forked out for a huge bottle just before he cleared off. I’d like to poison him all right! The nerve! Left me for some silly little kid barely older than you.’

‘Typical!’ I said.

Mum chuckled again. ‘Where do you get all your quaint ways, eh?’

‘Cam says “typical” a lot,’ I said, without really thinking.

‘Who’s Cam?’ said Mum.

I felt a little
thunk
in my stomach. ‘My . . . my foster mum.’

Mum straightened up and threw the damp tissue into Elaine’s wastebin. Well, she missed, but she didn’t seem to care. ‘Ah!’ she said, pinching the end of her cigarette so that she squeezed the light out of it. She threw it in the direction of the wastebin, missing again. ‘She’s the one who’s taken a fancy to you. Your social worker –’ Mum lowered her voice slightly, gesturing round the office – ‘what’s her name?’

‘Elaine. The pain.’

Mum stopped looking stroppy and giggled again. ‘She is, isn’t she! Still, you watch your lip, Tracy.’

I stuck my lip right out and crossed my eyes, like I was watching it.

Mum sighed and shook her head at me. ‘Cheeky! Anyway, she gets in touch with me – eventually – and tells me this woman has bobbed up out of the blue and has taken you out of the Children’s Home. Right?’

I nodded.

Mum lit up another fag, getting dead irritated now. ‘Why did you go along with it? You
don
’t want to live with this woman, do you?’

I didn’t know what to do. I just kind of shrugged my shoulders.

‘She sounds a bit suspect, if you ask me. Single woman, no spare cash – obviously scruffy standards, judging by your little outfit. Where did she get your clothes, a jumble sale?’

‘You got it.’

‘No! You’d think they’d be a bit more picky with their foster parents. Couldn’t they have found anyone better? Anyway, you don’t need a foster mum. It’s not like you’re an orphan. You’ve
got
a mum. Me.’

I blinked at her.

She sighed again, dragging on her cigarette. ‘I wanted you safe and sound in the Children’s Home where everyone could keep an eye on you.’

‘I don’t want to go back!’ I burst out.

Mum narrowed her eyes at me. ‘What did they do to you there, then?’

‘It was
awful
!’ I launched in. ‘They kept locking me in the quiet room if I did the slightest little thing and everyone kept picking on me. I got blamed for everything. And there was this big girl, Justine, she kept beating me up. Though I beat her up too. And we played
this
Dare Game and I was
heaps
more daring than she was. I ran all round the garden of the Children’s Home without any clothes on and Justine only ate one worm but I ate two really wriggly ones—’

‘Hey hey, you’re a right little nutter, you are! They’re not a good influence, children’s homes. Still, don’t worry, you’re not going back.’

‘So . . . am I going to stay with Cam?’

Mum put her head on one side. ‘Don’t you want to come and live with me?’

I stared at her. I stared and stared and stared. I wanted to rewind her so that I could hear her all over again. And again. I couldn’t believe it. Or was she kidding? ‘Really? With you, Mum?’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘For how long? A whole week?’ I asked.

‘Never mind a week! How about for ever?’

‘Wow!’ She still had her fag so I didn’t jump on her. I jumped on Elaine’s swivel chair instead and whirled it round and round.

‘Don’t do that, you’re doing my head in,’ said Mum.

I stopped, sharpish.

‘It’s time we got together, darling,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve missed my little girl so much. We’re going to make a go of it together, just you and me.’

It was like she’d taken me by the hand and we were climbing a golden staircase right up into the sky. And then I tripped on a step because I suddenly thought of something.

‘But what about Cam?’

‘What about her?’ said Mum. She took a last drag and then squashed her cigarette fiercely inside the Bunnikins mug. I imagined all their powder-puff tails scorching. ‘Never mind this Cam. She’s not family. Oh, Tracy, we’ll have such a great time together. First we’ll kit you out with some new clothes, smarten you up a little—’

‘I’ll smarten up all you want, Mum, no
worries
on that score. Designer clothes?’

‘Only the best for my girl. None of this shabby chainstore stuff. You don’t want to look the same as all the other kids. You want to look that bit
special
.’

‘You bet!’ I whirled round one more time. ‘Genuine logos, not fake market stuff?’

‘Who do you think I am?’ said Mum, hands on hips.

‘You’re my
mum
,’ I said.

S-o-o-o-o . . . I’m going to have my fairytale happy ending and more than half this notebook is still empty! I’m going to live with my mum. I am. I am. Just as soon as we’ve got it sorted out with Elaine.

‘I’ll sort her!’ said Mum.

And of course there’s Cam.

Cam.

Alexander’s Home

I’M MAD AT
Cam. I mean, I went through agonies telling her. I felt really bad. I was nearly crying. I thought it would be awful for her. But do you know something? She didn’t seem to care at all! She didn’t gasp and cry and cling to me. She just sat there, biting her nails, though she ticks me off something rotten if I do that. She didn’t say anything. Not a single word. No ‘Don’t leave me, darling Tracy, you mean the whole world to me and I can’t live without you.’ Nothing.

So I got a bit mad then and told her that my mum thinks I look a right old scruffbag and she’s going to get me kitted out in a full set
of
designer clothes. I thought
that
might get her going. I thought she might say, ‘Oh, Tracy, I feel so bad, I’ve never given you decent clothes, but tell you what, if you promise to stay with me we’ll go into town right away and I’ll wave my credit card like a wand and you can wear anything you want, money no object, just so long as you live with me.’ But not a bit of it. She still said a big fat
NOTHING
.

So I got really
really
mad because she obviously couldn’t care less so I went on about all this other stuff my mum was going to buy me, like a computer and rollerblades and a new bike and a trip to Disneyland and she didn’t even flinch. Didn’t try to compete. Simply couldn’t be bothered. She just sat there, nibble nibble on her nails, like she was bored with the whole situation and couldn’t wait to be shot of me.

So
then
I was so mega-mad I just wanted to don Doc Martens and jump up and down on her so I went on and on about my mum and how great she is and fantastically beautiful and wonderfully dressed and how we had these amazing cuddles and it was just like we’d never ever been parted.

And she
still
didn’t say a word! Nibble
nibble
on the nails till she was nearly down to her own knuckles.