‘Yuck! Look at me,’ she said, struggling to pull her zip up over her stomach. ‘I’m going to have to buy some new jeans. New everything.’ Even her lovely white jacket was too tight for her. ‘You’d better have it, Lola Rose,’ she said.
‘It’s yours, Mum. You’ll get thin again when you’re better.’
‘I don’t think I’m ever going to get better. And what’s the bloody point if I end up looking like a freak? I can’t stick being so fat!’
Auntie Barbara sniffed. ‘Shut up, skinny. Try being me!’
But Auntie Barbara wasn’t quite as fat as she had been. She wasn’t on a diet, but she didn’t have time to eat so much while she was running around looking after us and rushing back to see to the pub at weekends.
‘Maybe I’ll fit into real clothes soon,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘If so I’ll turn my purple silk wrap-around into a bedspread for you, Lola Rose.’
‘No, I’ll need it. I’m blowing up like a bouncy castle,’ said Mum.
‘You’re not. You’re still weeny compared to me,’ said Auntie Barbara.
‘Well, that’s not hard,’ said Mum.
‘Mum! Don’t be mean!’ I said.
Mum pulled a face. ‘I’m allowed to be mean. I’m the one that’s ill. And at least Barb’s still got a full head of hair.’
‘Yours will grow back, I promise. It’ll be as blonde and curly as ever,’ said Auntie Barbara, giving Mum a hug. ‘Just wait till you’ve finished your chemotherapy.’
‘Then it’ll be radiotherapy. Therapy! Is that a fancy word for torture? First they poison you and then they burn you.’
‘But they make you better,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘Now quit your moaning!’
‘You quit your nagging!’
They weren’t really arguing. It was just their little game with each other. They started singing their ‘Sisters’ song, harmonizing beautifully.
‘We’ll have to do a star turn down The Trout,’ said Auntie Barbara.
‘Oh yeah, and do a spot of lap-dancing too?’
‘I’m serious.’ Auntie Barbara looked at Mum, her eyes very blue. ‘Why don’t you and the kids come and move in with me? You’d go down really great with all my regulars. I’ll give you a half share in the pub. You should have had it in the first place. You can help me to modernize it. What do you think?’
I held my breath. Mum’s face screwed up. She blinked and tears spilled down her cheeks.
‘Yeah, all right,’ she said, like she’d just been offered a cup of tea – but she reached out and clasped Auntie Barbara’s hands tight.
‘What do you think, Lola Rose and Kendall?’ asked Auntie Barbara. ‘How do you both fancy living in the pub with me?’
‘Can I drink beer?’ Kendall asked.
‘No, but you can drink Coke and have lots of packets of crisps,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘And I’ve got a lovely big pub garden. Tell you what! We could have a little pond with goldfish. I don’t think we could have real trout, even though it would be appropriate. And no sharks!’
‘Except for my George! Could he swim in it?’
‘If he really wants to,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘Lola Rose? Would you like to live at The Trout? There’s lots of little attic rooms. You could have your own bedroom. Purple, of course. And there’s a big old screen somewhere – maybe you’d like to decorate it with scraps?’
I took a deep breath. She didn’t need to try to persuade me. It sounded like a fairy tale. ‘It would be wonderful,’ I said.
I’m going to miss my friend Harpreet, of course. I’ve never had a best friend before so it will be horrible saying goodbye. Still, maybe her mum will let her come and stay in the holidays. Mrs Gabrie still doesn’t think much of my mum but she approves of Auntie Barbara. She actually invited her in for a cup of tea the other day!
I’ll miss Ms Balsam too. I like it at Larkrise, especially the art lessons. Still, I’ll have a new school to go to now. I’m going to stay Lola Rose and then maybe I’ll make lots of new friends.
I won’t miss this house much, though I will miss Andy upstairs. He and Steve are getting this new place soon. And Miss Parker might be going into a home. We’re all moving on. It’s definite now. Mum and Kendall and me are going to live at The Trout. Though it’s not going to be called that for much longer.
‘I could never stick the name,’ said Mum. ‘And if we’re going to run it together, Barb, we don’t want all the guys to call us the two old trouts.’
‘So we’ll change the name, no problem,’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘What shall we call it, eh? What about the Singing Sisters?’
‘Big Sister and Little Sister,’ said Mum. ‘Only I’m the blooming Big Sister now.’
‘Stop it!’ said Auntie Barbara. ‘You’ll get your figure back soon enough, you’ll see. Though it’ll be hard for you to go on a diet living at the pub. Wait till you try our Thai green chicken curry!’
We all knew Mum could still pull any bloke she fancied, fat or thin. She’d like it at the pub because she’d meet lots and lots of men. I wish she didn’t need them so much, but she can’t seem to help it. Still, I don’t think she’ll ever want Dad back again.
I don’t really worry about Dad now. Auntie Barbara will protect us if he ever comes back.
I worry about Mum. Even though she’s getting better. She really is. The hospital is very pleased with her progress. Mr Key says her chances are very good now.
I don’t know why. It was probably the treatment. Even though she nearly died after that first week.
She was lucky.
You can’t make lucky things happen. You can’t win the lottery every day.
I know it was just chance that Mum got better after I’d endured the shark ordeal. A lucky coincidence. But I still feel good every time I look at the shark’s tooth hanging on the fine silver chain around her neck.
We’re going to live happily ever after, Mum and Auntie Barbara and Kendall and me. Fingers crossed.
Jacqueline Wilson, Lola Rose
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