I stared at Dad, shouting inside my head. He looked over at me as if he could hear. He smiled. It was a shark smile.
‘Ah, Jayni,’ he said, as if he’d just clapped eyes on me. ‘Aren’t you going to give your old dad a kiss and tell him you’re pleased to see him?’
Mum held her breath, staring at me pleadingly.
I pretended for her sake.
I pretended for my sake too, because I was scared out of my wits. I wanted to run right out the room, down the stairs, down the road, run away for ever. But I walked up to my dad. He put his arm round me. His lips nuzzled my ear, my neck.
‘That’s my good little girl,’ he whispered. ‘Was it you who put your mum up to all this, eh?’
I didn’t know what to say. I started shaking.
‘Hey, are you shivering? You shouldn’t be cold in that natty furry jacket. Nice little bit of clobber, that. So where’s my fancy jacket, eh?’
‘We’ll buy you one, darling,’ said Mum.
So she hadn’t let on that the money was all gone.
That’s my babe. And my boy and my girl. My family, safely come back to me,’ said Dad, arms round us all. Imprisoning us.
Auntie Barbara was standing free, watching us. She had her arms folded across her chest, hands gripping her elbows as if she was trying to hold herself in. She was looking at Mum like she couldn’t quite believe it. Mum wouldn’t look back at her.
But Dad did.
‘So, Barbara,’ he said. ‘You were telling me porky pies when I came round to your pub.’ He put his head on one side, puffing out his cheeks, his voice a silly high-pitched imitation. ‘Oh no, believe me, Jay, I haven’t got a clue where Nikki is. I haven’t seen her for years. The last time I saw the kids Kenny was a baby.’
‘That was true, Jay,’ Auntie Barbara said steadily. ‘I didn’t even have your address.’
‘Liar!’
‘You can call me all the names you like. I’m used to it.’
‘Ooh, what sort of names do you get called, little Barbie?’
‘I’m sure you’re familiar with most of them,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘I’ll go and make us all a cup of tea, eh, Nikki? How are you feeling?’
‘Fine,’ said Mum. She looked grey under-neath her make-up. ‘Barbara just came to look after the kids when I had to go into hospital for the op.’
‘So who called her then?’ said Dad.
I stayed very still.
‘I did,’ said Mum.
‘Why didn’t you call me? They’re my kids, for God’s sake.’
‘I know, darling, but I thought you might be freaked out by the whole hospital bit. Barbara, I’d love that cup of tea—’
‘Yeah, OK, Barbie, you pop the kettle on like Polly, and then you can pop off back to your pub,’ said Dad. ‘We don’t need you now. We’re going home too.’ He peered round the room, sniffing. ‘Whatever made you pick this dump, Nik? Are you sure this tumour isn’t in your head?’
‘There’s no tumour anywhere, darling. They’ve dug it all out of me. I’m as good as new,’ said Mum.
‘I hope so, babe. I couldn’t bear it if you had to have one of your lovely boobies chopped off.’
‘That’s a really helpful attitude,’ said Auntie Barbara.
We all tensed. Dad pushed Kendall so he slid off his lap.
‘She didn’t mean it to sound like that, Jay,’ said Mum.
‘What do you think I am, thick? Don’t look so worried, babe. Jayni, stop that silly shivering. It’s OK. I’m not going to blow my top. Even with your fat freak of a sister. Hear that, Barbie? You trot off back to Big Daddy.’
‘He’s dead and gone,’ said Auntie Barbara, ‘and I don’t think any of us should trot off tonight. Nikki’s exhausted. She needs to rest. And she has to go back to the hospital next week for the results of her tests.’
‘What tests?’ said Dad. ‘I thought you said the tumour had gone, Nik?’
‘It has, it has,’ said Mum. ‘They cut it all out. I’m fine now. Just a bit tired.’ Her voice cracked and tears started dribbling down her cheeks.
‘Don’t cry, sweetheart, you know I can’t bear it,’ said Dad. He pulled her close so her head was against his chest. There there, my little babe. It’s OK, your Jay’s here now. He’ll take care of you.’
He stroked her hair and kissed the tip of her nose as if she was a little girl. Mum hung onto him.
‘Oh Jay, you promise? You really will take care of me?’
‘I swear I will, darling. You can count on me. You’re my little babe and I’m going to keep you safe. Now you lie back. No wonder you’re tired. I’ll tuck you up, eh? You could do with a little nap. We’ll stay here for the night if that’s what you want. We’ll get you back home tomorrow. I’ll carry you in my arms if necessary. I’d carry you clear across the world, babe. You mean all the world to me. I was ready to top myself when you left. But I don’t blame you, sweetheart. I’m not angry any more. You were obviously getting sick already, not thinking straight. You panicked, I know. I understand. But now you can relax. We’re going to start all over again, you and me and our little lad.’
‘And Jayni,’ Mum said.
‘And Jayni,’ Dad said.
I hated the way Dad was looking at me. I couldn’t be his little girl any more. He thought it was all my fault.
Maybe it was my fault.
My head felt as if it was being crushed. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think.
Then I felt those two steady hands on my shoulders.
‘Come and help me make the tea, Jayni,’ said Auntie Barbara.
She steered me out into the kitchen. I leant against her. She wrapped her arms round me, bending over.
‘You can come and live with me if you like,’ she whispered.
‘He wouldn’t let me.’
‘We’ll work it out somehow. I’m not going to let him hurt you, I promise.’
‘But he’ll hurt Mum.’
‘Maybe they’ll work something out,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘Maybe he really will take care of her. Maybe this is his last chance and he’s taking it.’
When we went back into the living room Dad was trying hard, plumping up the pillows behind Mum and straightening the covers on the sofa bed.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said. ‘There! Is that comfier?’
‘Yes, Jay, much.’
‘We’ll tuck you right up, eh?’ Dad said tenderly. ‘Let me take your jacket off. There now, don’t worry, I won’t hurt your poor chest. My brave little babe, you never make a fuss, do you? Well, you’re not ever going to get hurt again, I promise. We’ll tuck you up tight and you can have a lovely long snooze.’
‘You’re so good to me, Jay,’ Mum said.
‘That’s right, babe. No one’s ever looked after you the way I do,’ said Dad, tucking the cover in firmly.
He felt something stuck under the mattress. He pulled it out. He held something crumpled and blue. He looked at it incredulously. ‘What the bloody hell are these?’ he said.
Dad held the blue boxer shorts out and waved them in the air, so that the legs flapped. It looked comical but no one laughed. Even Kendall ducked his head, elbows pressed against his sides.
Mum stared at the shorts helplessly.
‘What are they?’ Dad asked.
‘They’re underpants,’ Mum whispered.
‘Yeah. Right. I can see they are,’ said Dad, holding them out, practically thrusting them in Mum’s face. ‘That’s not really the issue, is it, Nikki?’
Mum swallowed.
‘Is it?’ Dad yelled.
‘Don’t shout, darling, please,’ Mum begged.
‘I’ll shout my head off until you tell me whose pants these are,’ said Dad.
They were obviously Jake’s. I hated him for being so careless, so forgetful.
‘They’re Kendall’s,’ I blurted out.
‘Oooh. Kendall’s, are they?’ said Dad. ‘Why the fancy name, Kenny?’
Kenny tried t
o shrug, his shoulders wiggling.
‘Are they your pants, Kendall?’ said Dad. ‘Bit big for you, aren’t they?’ He held up the boxer shorts. They’d have reached right down to Kendall’s ankles.
‘I think you’re telling me porky pies, Jayni,’ said Dad.
‘Leave the kids out of it,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘For God’s sake, what does it matter whose stupid pants they are? Forget it, let’s have our tea.’
She passed Dad a mug but he batted it away, so that hot tea sprayed everywhere, spattering Auntie Barbara’s Thai silk two-piece.
‘Whoops!’ said Dad. ‘Aha! Are they your pants, Barbie? No, I don’t think so. A little on the small side this time.’
‘You’re labouring the point, Jay,’ said Auntie Barbara, dabbing at her wet wrap-around.
‘Too right I am. I want an answer.’ Dad scrunched the pants up and wiped them round Mum’s face like a flannel. ‘Whose are they, Nikki?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mum whispered.
‘You don’t know? So you’ve had so many men taking their clothes off since you’ve been here you’ve lost track, have you?’
Mum shook her head, clutching her sore chest. ‘Jay, I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry. There was just the one guy,’ she wept.
‘You slag,’ Dad yelled. He raised his hand, his fist clenching.
I ran towards Mum.
Auntie Barbara was quicker. Her own fists were clenched. She didn’t hit Dad. She kicked him. Her foot shot up in its big purple suede sandal. She kicked him hard, right in the crotch. Dad gasped and doubled up. Auntie Barbara balanced herself on the balls of her feet, ready for when he got up.
Dad got to his knees, clutching himself.
‘You raise your hand one more time to Nik or the kids and I’ll kill you,’ said Auntie Barbara.
Dad staggered to his feet, his face contorted. He grabbed the tea mug and smashed it against the wall. Then he turned and came at Auntie Barbara again, the broken shards clutched in his hand. He went for her face – but she whirled her arm and chopped him hard on the shoulder with the side of her hand. He swayed, dropping the broken mug, his mouth open.
‘I mean it, Jay,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘Now get out. Get out of this flat. Get out of their lives.’
Dad looked at Mum.
‘I’m sorry, Jay,’ she sobbed. ‘Just go now. Please.’
Dad stood there, sobbing with rage. He looked round at all of us – and then he ran out, slamming the door behind him. We heard Miss Parker downstairs calling out, complaining at the noise. The front door slammed harder.
Then there were footsteps and a banging on our door. We all thought Dad was back but it was Andy and Steve from upstairs.
‘You OK, Victoria? We heard the ruckus.’
Steve had grabbed an umbrella, Andy a saucepan. They weren’t great weapons, especially not for a fight with my dad. But Auntie Barbara had beaten him! She stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, tidying her purple top.
‘We’re fine now, but thanks so much for coming to protect us.’
Steve and Andy were obviously dying to stay and find out what had been going on, but Auntie Barbara gently but firmly told them Mum needed to rest now. They shuffled back upstairs obediently.
‘I think we need a fresh pot of tea,’ said Auntie Barbara. She looked at Kendall. He’d wet himself he’d been so scared. ‘And you need a change of trousers, Kendall. OK, Lola Rose. I’ll do the tea, you do the trousers.’
I looked over at Mum. She had her head buried in her hands. I hesitated.
‘Let Mum have a little cry,’ said Auntie Barbara.
I took Kendall into the bathroom. He started crying too.
‘I’m a baby. I wet myself!’
‘No, it’s OK, Kendall. I nearly wet myself. It was so scary.’
‘That man was Dad, wasn’t he?’
‘Of course he was.’
‘I remembered him different,’ said Kendall.
‘Yes.’
‘He shouted at me.’
‘He shouted at everyone.’
‘I thought he was going to hurt us. But then Auntie Barbara hurt him!’ Kendall wriggled out of his wet trousers and kicked his leg in imitation. He waved his arm, nearly whacking me on the head as I washed him.
‘Watch out, Kendall!’
‘You watch out, Lola Rose, or I’ll go kick-chop-thump like Auntie Barbara.’
‘How did she do that?’
I was glad Kendall had seen it too, otherwise I’d have wondered if I’d imagined it. Already Auntie Barbara seemed to fly through the air in my memory, arms and legs whirling, like a martial arts movie.
‘Thai martial arts,’ said Auntie Barbara, when we asked her. ‘I went to see Thai boxing when I was in Thailand. It’s amazing. They do it to music and they use so many parts of their bodies as weapons – their fists, elbows, knees, shins and feet. When I came back I saw there were some Thai boxing evening classes. I went along just to watch, but I ended up joining in. I’d done some judo before so it wasn’t like I was starting completely from scratch.’
‘You joined in just like that? You are brave, Auntie Barbara.’
‘No I’m not. I used to be scared to say boo to a goose when I was your age.’
Mum sniffled. ‘You were Daddy’s little darling.’
‘Big darling.’
‘You’re so big you can even beat my dad,’ said Kendall.
‘Will you really kill him if he comes back?’ I asked.
‘No! Look, I’m thinking of becoming a Buddhist. They don’t believe in killing anything, not even little creepie-crawlies.’
‘But you could kill him if you wanted? If he was really really hurting us?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Auntie Barbara, can you stay with us for a bit, please? Just in case Dad comes back?’
Auntie Barbara looked at Mum. ‘I don’t think your mum wants me to stay,’ she said. ‘But she hasn’t got much choice. It looks like you’re stuck with me.’
Mum cried and cried. I couldn’t work out why. Auntie Barbara had rescued us! Mum didn’t still want Dad back, did she? She’d been just as scared as we were.
I asked Auntie Barbara.
‘I expect she’s just worn out with everything, pet,’ she said.
‘She is better, isn’t she? They did get all the tumour out?’
‘Yes, I think so. But she might have to have some treatment.’
‘What treatment?’
‘Let’s just wait and see, shall we?’ said Auntie Barbara.
‘But she is going to be all right, isn’t she?’
‘I hope so, darling.’
‘You promise?’
Auntie Barbara wavered. ‘I wish I could promise you that, Lola Rose,’ she said.
Mum seemed fine the next day. When Kendall and I came home from school she was looking lovely, her hair newly coloured and styled. She was wearing her white jeans, but now they had embroidered pink roses up and down the seams.
‘Has Jake been here?’ I asked.
‘Has he heck,’ said Mum. ‘I did them. You’re not the only one who can be creative, Lola Rose.’
‘They look lovely, Mum. You look lovely.’
‘Do I?’ said Mum, preening. ‘Well, I’ve got to tart myself up. I’m going job-hunting tomorrow.’
‘Why don’t you wait a bit, Nikki?’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘Give yourself time to get better.’
‘I am better,’ said Mum. ‘And I need a job as soon as possible. I’ve got to feed these kids.’
‘I can take care of the bills for a bit,’ said Auntie Barbara.
‘I don’t want you to,’ said Mum. ‘Haven’t you been lecturing me all day about standing on my own two feet and not depending on anyone?’
‘I don’t lecture,’ said Auntie Barbara, giving Mum a tiny push. ‘And you’ll never be able to stand on your two feet, not wearing those ridiculous high heels.’
Mum blew a raspberry at Auntie Barbara. ‘Nag na
g nag.’
‘Whinge whinge whinge,’ said Auntie Barbara.
Mum pulled a hideous face.
Auntie Barbara pulled a worse one.
They were like two silly kids.
‘Aren’t they childish, Kendall,’ I said, winking.
I started singing Mum’s ‘Lucky’ song as I helped get tea ready – steak and chips and a watercress salad to build Mum up, and then strawberries and cream. I washed the watercress and took the stalks off the strawberries and whipped the cream. Kendall licked the bowl, singing the ‘Lucky’ song too. Mum joined in and Auntie Barbara.
I thought she’d have a great big powerful singing voice, but she sounded sweet and girly, just like Mum. They started singing all these daft duets together. Mum didn’t have the energy to dance but she took off her high heels and kicked them up and down in the air.
Auntie Barbara did dance, larking about, light on her toes in spite of her bulk. She picked Kendall up and danced with him. Then it was my turn. She whirled me round and round the room until Mum and Kendall blurred, and the room whirled with me.
I felt so happy then, eating my treat tea, sure we really were lucky lucky lucky.
Mum still had to go back to hospital to get the results of her tests. Auntie Barbara went with her. I hoped they might come to meet us from school. I wanted them to be waiting by the gate with big smiles on their faces. But they weren’t there.
Kendall and I walked home with Harpreet and Amandeep. I nattered to Harpreet – all sorts of stupid stuff about boys and football and rock stars – but all the time I was chanting inside my head. Let her be all right, please please please.
I tried not to walk on any cracks in the pavement in case it was bad luck.
‘Are your shoes hurting you?’ Harpreet asked.
‘No.’
‘So why are you walking funny, picking your feet up like a pony?’ said Harpreet.
‘Am I?’ I threw back my head and neighed. ‘Give me a carrot. And a sugar lump.’
‘You’re nuts,’ said Harpreet, giggling.
‘I’m a shark, not a pony,’ said Kendall. ‘Watch me, Amandeep.’