The Illustrated Mum (19 page)

“Can the little girl stay with you till Dad gets back?” said the ambulance woman.

Mrs. Luft made a little chew-swallow-murmur, as if she were snacking on her own false teeth.

The ambulance people took this for a yes. They lifted Marigold out of the doorway. When she saw the white ambulance her face screwed up. Tears ran down her cheeks. Her eyes stared at me as they put her in the back.

“I'm sorry,” I said.

It was such a silly small word for what I felt.

They shut her inside. The ambulance man gave me the thumbs-up sign.

“Don't worry, kid. It'll be all right. We'll soon get Mum sorted out,” he said.

He got into the ambulance and drove off. “You won't get that one sorted out, not in a month of Sundays,” Mrs. Luft snorted.

“You shut up, you nasty mean old moo!”
“Well!”
She drew herself up, her nostrils pinched white as if I were a bad smell. “There's gratitude! When I've agreed to keep my eye on you until someone comes to look after you.”

“I don't need looking after. I can look after myself,” I said fiercely.

“Oh yes, little Miss Spitfire. Very funny. How old are you? Ten? Don't be so silly. We'd better phone the welfare people.”

“No! No, don't.” I swallowed. “
Please
don't. Look, my mum will be back by the time I get home from school, and anyway, there's my dad. Yeah, my dad.”

“I don't know. There's no sign of this dad of yours all the time you've been living here. Lots of
uncles
, of course, flitting in and out, but the less said about that the better. I suppose your dad is the one that fancies himself with the pretty-boy hair and silly clothes.
I
saw you all. Is he the one?”

I nodded, wishing Micky really were my dad. Then he'd be looking after me and telling me what to do about Marigold. I had to get away from Mrs. Luft before I started crying again.

“I'm going to school,” I said quickly. “I've got to go, I'm ever so late. I'll get into trouble.”

I did get into trouble too. Miss Hill was halfway through the first lesson when I got there.

“For goodness' sake, Dolphin! Why are you so late?”

I stood still, wondering what I could possibly say.

“This really isn't good enough. Did you oversleep?”

This seemed the best option so I nodded.

“Then you must go to bed earlier. What time did you go to bed last night?'

I thought about it. I couldn't remember exactly. Half the night I wasn't even
in
bed, I was curled up in the bath trying to keep a watch over Marigold.

I could see a pale ghost of her even now in the classroom. I could feel my eyes watering. I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

“Really! Don't you have a tissue? Look at the state of you. You look as if you've tumbled straight out of bed. You haven't even brushed your hair or washed your face, have you?”

Yvonne and Kayleigh started sniggering as she got stuck into me. I held my face tight to stop myself crying. I fingered my witchy black velvet, trying to summon up evil powers, but I couldn't make anything work. Miss Hill went on and on, telling me it just wasn't good enough, I was a dirty lazy girl without any sense of pride and if I didn't wipe that insolent smirk off my face she'd send me straight to the head teacher.

I swiveled my head to try to change my expression. I saw a blurry view of the class, lots of them grinning and giggling, but then I saw a flash of glass. I blinked and saw Oliver clearly, his face white and tense, his eyes big behind his specs. He looked so sorry for me that I couldn't bear it. I suddenly started howling.

“Really, Dolphin! There's no need for tears,” said Miss Hill. She was still scornful, but she sounded a bit scared too, as if she realized she'd gone too far. “Stop that silly crying now.”

I couldn't stop. I snorted and sobbed, my nose running.

“Here.” I felt a hankie being pressed into my hand. I opened my teary eyes. It was Oliver.

“Sit down, Oliver. And you, Dolphin. Shall we get on with our work, everybody?”

I squeezed Oliver's hand and then went to sit down, mopping my face.

Kayleigh and Yvonne whispered all sorts of stuff about me being a baby and dirty and snotty.

“Snottle Bottle Nose,” Kayleigh said, and they both burst out laughing.

“That's enough, Yvonne and Kayleigh. Settle down at once,” said Miss Hill.

I didn't even turn round to stick my tongue out at them to show I was glad they'd got into trouble. I couldn't be bothered with any of this school stuff anymore. I just kept thinking of Marigold and wondering what they were doing to her. Why hadn't I gone with her to the hospital?

At morning break I shot off quickly, not wanting to be with anyone, not even Oliver. But he caught up with me and cornered me.

“I didn't think anyone could make you cry,” he said. “Yes, well, they can't. Especially not hateful Bumface Hill. I was crying about something else, OK?” I said, clenching my fists.

“What else?” said Oliver. “Don't get mad at me, Dolphin. I'm your friend.”

“I know. I'm sorry. It's just … oh, Owly, I don't know what to do.”

“Oliver!”

“Sorry. I wasn't thinking. It's my mum.”

“I thought it was.”

“I phoned the ambulance to come and get her. I
had
to, because of all the paint, in her ears and eyes and everywhere, but now she'll never forgive me.”

“What?” said Oliver, blinking behind his glasses.

I explained.

“I feel so terrible. She hates hospitals.”

“But you had to. You did the right thing, Dolphin, honestly.”

“Do you think I should bunk off school and go to the hospital now, to be with her?”

“Maybe they wouldn't let you see her. If they're scrubbing off all the paint. Wait a bit. Let me think. Here, have you still got my hankie? I think you need to use it again.”

“Oh, Oliver.” I hung on to him because there was no one else.

“Yuck! Look! Bottle Nose and Owly are snogging again!” Yvonne and Kayleigh and a whole little gang of girls were fast approaching.

“You shut up, you stupid Piddle Pants,” I yelled. “If
you say one more thing I'll smash your stupid teeth in‘and then no one will ever want to snog
you
.”

I rounded on them so determinedly that they scattered.

“You are
fierce
, Dolphin,” said Oliver. “I'm glad you're on
my
side.”

“I'm glad you're on mine,” I said. “You'll help me sort out what to do?”

“Well … I'll try.”

“You've got the mega-whizzo brainpower, right?”

“Right,” said Oliver. “OK. Leave it to me.”

The rest of the morning went so s-l-o-w-l-y it seemed as if it were already the summer holidays when the bell rang for lunchtime. I looked at Oliver expectantly.

“We'll phone the hospital,” he said.

It didn't seem much of a solution to all the black worries buzzing in my head, but it seemed like a good starting point. I didn't have any money but Oliver had a good supply of ten and twenty pences. I needed most of them too, because the hospital switchboard kept me waiting ages while they looked up Marigold's name and tried to track her down. They put me through to Casualty and they checked and eventually said she wasn't there anymore.

“So she's home already!” I said. I felt the tight band round me loosen so that my heart gave a happy thump.

“No …”

My heart clamped.

“Where is she then?”

“She's been admitted to Tennyson.”

“Tennyson?”

“I'll put you through.”

So I waited again, wondering what had gone wrong now. Maybe Tennyson was a special ear, nose and throat ward and they were checking in case the paint had done any damage. Or maybe Tennyson was the eye ward and they were using special eye baths to get the paint off her lashes?

Maybe.

Maybe I knew perfectly well what sort of ward it was.

“Tennyson Psychiatric Ward. How can I help you?”

I pressed the phone hard against my ear. I didn't want Oliver to know.

“I think‘there's this lady, she's called Marigold, Marigold Westward. She‘she might be having treatment?”

“Ah! Yes. Yes, we admitted a Ms. Westward to the ward this morning.”

“And‘and will she be better soon?”

“I think it might take a while. Who's speaking, please? Are you Ms. Westward's little girl?”

“No. No, I'm grown up, I just sound young,” I said, trying to deepen my voice.

I turned my back on Oliver because he was putting me off.

“Well, we need to speak to an adult family member about Ms. Westward,” the voice said gently.

“I'm adult. And family. I'm‘I'm her sister. Is she going to be able to come home tonight? I can look after her and give her any medicine she needs. But she really hates it in hospital, you see. It's actually bad for her to be in hospital. So if you've got all the paint off, can't she come home? Now?”

“I'm afraid not, dear. Ms. Westward is really quite seriously ill at the moment.”

“What has she got? Is it poisoning from the paint?”

“No, no. I really don't think I should discuss this on the phone. Perhaps you could come and have a chat with us?”

“I … Please! Can't you just tell me when she'll be home? Tomorrow? The day after?
When?
”

“It's impossible to say. We can't make any predictions. But I shouldn't imagine it will be too long. A matter of weeks.”

“
Weeks!
”

“I think you
are
very young, dear. Where are you ringing from? Do you have an adult with you? Listen, dear’

I didn't dare listen anymore. I slammed the phone down. I shut my eyes to try to blot everything out. It was very silent in the corridor because everyone else was at lunch. I could just hear Oliver breathing heavily beside me.

“Weeks?” he whispered. “Yes.” I opened my eyes. It was no use trying to kid him. “She's in the nutty ward. I expect she's locked up. Oh, Owly, what am I going to do?”

He didn't blink at the unintentional “Owly.”

“We'll think of something,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

“I can't stay at home by myself for weeks. Mrs. Luft will phone the welfare. And I haven't got any money. I won't be able to go down the post office for the check because it's Marigold who has to collect it, kids aren't allowed, I know, because Star tried once.” I started shaking when I said Star's name.

“Can't you go and live with Star and her dad?” said Oliver. “You said she asked you to come too.”

“But they don't really want me. And anyway, I don't know where they
are
. She's meant to be sending me a new phone. I could ask her then. She might come back if she believes me. Oh, I
wish
she was here.”

“I'm here,” said Oliver, patting my arm nervously, as if he were trying to make friends with a snappy little dog.

I looked at him.

“Oliver? Could I … could I come and live with you and your mum?”

Oliver's eyes widened.

“Not for good. Just for a few days. Until I can get in touch with Star. Oh please, Oliver, say yes.”

“I‘I don't …”

“I've had you to tea at my house and you can stay over anytime you want. So can't I come to your house? Maybe just for tonight?”

“I wish you could, Dolphin,” said Oliver. “But it's my mum. She doesn't want anyone to come round. She just wants it to be her and me. I asked her if I could have you for tea and she just said not at the moment, she wasn't up to it. She's gone a bit funny since my dad left.”

“Look,
my
mum's seriously bananas. I'm used to mums being odd. I won't laugh or anything. I'll be ever so good. I'll take my own sleeping bag so I won't even need a bed. Please, Oliver.”

“Well, I'll phone and ask. But I don't think she'll say yes.”

Oliver phoned. I could hear his mum's startled tone. “Oliver, darling? Oh my goodness, what's the matter? Why are you phoning? What's happened? Have you hurt yourself?” She asked dozens of questions without letting him answer. He had to blurt it out while she was saying stuff herself so she didn't even hear first time round. Then he had to repeat it.

“Mum. Please. Can my friend Dolphin‘you know, I went to tea at her place‘well, can she come to tea tonight, please?”

“And to stay over?” I mouthed.

But Oliver's mum wouldn't even consider tea. She spoke in such a loud, whiny voice I could hear her clearly.

“It's out of the question, darling, you know it is, especially today. I've got another migraine. I'll have to make a doctor's appointment. I just can't go on like this.”

“But Mum, Dolphin needs to stay somewhere tonight. Please can't she come?”

“Oliver, what on earth's got into you? I've told you what I think about this weird little girl and her bizarre family. Why you had to get mixed up with her I can't imagine.”

Oliver wriggled, his eyes swerving past me. He tried again, several times, but it was obvious it was pointless. There was a brief silence after he put the phone down.

“I'm afraid Mum says you can't come,” he said eventually in a tiny voice.

“I know. I heard. It's all right.” “

It's not all right,” said Oliver. “Oh, Dolphin. Look. Maybe we should tell a teacher?”

“What?” I said. “Puh-Lease. Tell Miss Hill!”

“No. Not her. What about Mr. Harrison. He's nice. He'd help.”

“He's nice, yes. But how could he help? He's not going to say “OK, Dolphin, come and kip down at my house for a few weeks until your mum's better.'”

“No, but maybe he'd know what to do.”

“Yeah, I know what he'd do. Call social services. And I'd be shoved into a home.”

“Well … they'd look after you OK, wouldn't they? And it might even be fun. You could be fostered for a bit.”

“You've been watching too much television. Look, my mum was in and out of homes and foster places all her life. She said it was the absolute pits. Some of the things she's told Star and me … Well, you'd never believe it, Oliver.”

“But if it was just for a week or two?”

“But it wouldn't be, would it? If they've got my mum locked up in the nutty ward they're going to say she's an unfit mother. The social services will do this investigation, see, and if they find out that Marigold often goes a bit weird and likes to go out for a drink or two or three, and she sometimes has boyfriends, and‘and there's all the credit card stuff she pulls too‘they'll never let me go back and live with her ever. And I need to be with her, Oliver. She's my
mum
.”