Hello! What shall I write about? See, I’ve got this lovely new notebook that Kat got me in Paperchase this morning, because we all went shopping. Maybe she’s not that bad after all.
Anyway, Jamie just screamed the whole morning when we walked around the shops – he didn’t half give me an earache, but I pretended not to care. I was trying to be extra good, since it was nearly my birthday. It took a packet of crisps, a doughnut and a new toy car to shut Jamie up! All the way through this epidemic, I walked, quiet as a mouse, behind Kat and Dad. In my head, I pretended I didn’t know them, my embarrassing sort-of family. I wanted something badly, but I was too scared and way too shy to ask. Kat looked at me and asked me what shop I’d like to go in next. I was very grateful and said Paperchase. Dad scowled and said not that stupid rubbishy shop again. Kat just laughed at him and took me inside. Dad and Jamie stayed outside. I was glad they did.
I took absolutely ages in Paperchase, but thankfully Kat didn’t seem to mind. I stroked each and every notebook, looking at their soft covers and flicking their shiny pages. I fingered the pens, special fountain pens, italics, gel pens and shiny scratchy ballpoints.
Eventually, I chose. Kat came over and asked me what I’d chosen. Shyly I handed over this pink notebook decorated with dolls holding hands.
“Would you like to get a pen as well, Jee?” Kat asked me. I held out the italic blue pen and Kat smiled. She paid for them both.
That’s my name. Georgia, but everyone calls me Jee. Jamie’s my little half brother - he’s four. I live with Jamie, my Dad and Kat. Kat’s my dad’s girlfriend and she’s only twenty one!
She’s fifteen years younger than Dad! Her long, dark chocolate curls tumble down her back like a waterfall and her skin is the colour of milky coffee. Her favourite clothes are little tight skirts and tiny tops that wouldn’t even fit me. I didn’t use to like her at first, but I’ve decided she’s ok. Especially now that she’s bought me this book! Dad’s a lot different. Make that completely different. His brown hair is thinning and going grey. He wears old baggy trousers and jumpers that are unravelling. Jamie’s got the same brown eyes as him and the same square nose. But he’s got Kat’s dark hair ‘cos she’s his mum.
She’s not my mum. She and my dad got together five years ago. My mum left us, seven years ago when I was only two. I’m nine now, and I’m going to be ten on Tuesday, which is only two days away! I’m really excited. Anyway, everyone says I look just like my mum did. The same coffee coloured hair and sea green eyes.
Although, Mum was tall and I’m little and slim and bouncy. We hardly look alike now because I’ve got a short cut and a swishy fringe, and I haven’t seen Mum for years so she could have dyed her hair pink or shaved it all off and I would never even know!
At least, that’s what Kat was saying to her friend Lulu last week. What a stupid name! Which inconsiderate parents would call their child Lulu?
Back to what I was talking about!
Oh I wish I still had my mum. Kat’s real name is Katalina Elizabeth Gondova – what a mouthful! I wouldn’t mind her being my mum, but I still love my mum more. For now Kat’s just my friend.
Kat’s ok usually, but recently she’s been lovely to me. I’ve got a feeling something’s going on, but I don’t know what. I can’t think and my arm’s getting tired.
I’ve got it! I forgot to tell you where I live. Well, as I already told you, I live with Dad, Kat and Jamie. Sometimes I wish I could live by myself. In a huge penthouse flat with cream sofas and a big four poster bed! Or in a colossal mansion with Victorian trinket beds and wooden trunks with gold clasps, that’d be great! Feel free to believe I live in a place like one of those, but we live in an ordinary flat with ordinary furniture. The flat’s unbelievably tiny, with only two bedrooms so annoying old Jamie has to share with me. He doesn’t half scream in the middle of the night, I never get any sleep. It’s so unfair!
We sit down for tea at the table. It’s nothing special; just microwave chicken steaks, tinned peas and carrots and cheap vanilla ice cream. We usually have a lot better, but recently we have been saving. I don’t know why, though.
We all sit differently, looking nothing like a family. Kat perches on a leather stool, legs exquisitely crossed, and Dad slumps in a squashy arm chair. Jamie sits cross-legged on his Bob the Builder plastic chair and I kneel on a wooden chair, usually with the result of painful bruised knees. An awkward silence lay around and thankfully I left the kitchen as quick as possible. Weirdly conversation began as soon as I left the table. I was beginning to feel I was being left out on a secret. Even Jamie seemed to know. He smiled smugly at me. I felt a pang of jealousy.
At nine o’clock I slip into my PJs and hop into bed. Kat comes and turns my light out. She kisses me goodnight. She’s starting to act like a real mum. I quite like it, but my mum always comes first with me.
I wake at eight and have to rush getting ready and eating my breakfast, because I desperately want Kat to do my hair before she goes to the salon. She’s a beautician and also a hairdresser. My best friend Hannah always loves my hair when Kat does it. Kat washed and blow dryed my hair to perfection, then straightened my fringe carefully. She fixed it with special glittery daisy hair slides. It was truly amazing. She’s being so nice to me now. And it’s my birthday tomorrow!
When I got to school in the morning Hannah rushed over to me and gave me a hug. You wouldn’t believe the last time she’d seen me was two days ago! I laughed and we sat down on the wooden bench near our classroom.
“I love your hair, Georgie! Did Kat do it?” Hannah asked, staring at my hair in awe. She sighed and fingered her own long blonde French plaits wistfully. I don’t know why, because I love her gorgeous hair.
“Yeah, she did. Are you still coming to my party tomorrow?” I said, linking her arm as we walked to our classroom and stepped inside.
“Course I am!” Hannah replied when we sat down at our desk. You could fit three people on it, but there was only us.
Mrs Taylor, our teacher, took the register briskly, her jet black hair sculpted into an elegant plait. A small girl with waist length golden curls and a perfect heart shaped face walked into the classroom. She blinked at us with perfect crystal blue eyes and long black lashes. Her jumper sleeves were rolled up and her skirt was shortened. She clicked her heels tiny grey pixie boots and pink shiny lip gloss glittered on her full lips. She was utterly gorgeous and I felt myself getting uglier every minute I watched her.
“Now Penelope, where shall we sit you? Girls and boys this is Penelope Young. Tell you what, who wants Penelope to sit in a three with them?”
Most girls put up their hand. Hannah did. I felt a bit betrayed, but I knew Hannah was only trying to be kind. I was still a bit miffed all the same, more so when Mrs Taylor sat Penelope next to Hannah and me.
Throughout Literacy, Hannah and Penelope whispered to each other, their blond hair covering them from me. I could only hear a part of their conversation.
“Where do you live Penelope?” Hannah whispered.
“61 Lark Drive, and call me Penny, silly!” she said.
“Oh wow! I live at number 69 Penny!” I couldn’t believe my best friend was sucking up to Penelope like that.
“Do you want to sleep at mine tonight? We could do your hair like mine and we’ll look like sisters!” Penelope giggled.
“Cool! That’d be amazing!” Hannah agreed.
At playtime Hannah and Penelope walked arm in arm around the playground giggling and whispering. I was beginning to feel seriously left out in both my family and with Hannah.
That night was a bit better. I helped Kat make my cake. It was a sponge cake cut in a J shape and iced with butter cream. We decorated it with sprinkles and crystallized roses. It was beautiful.
I struggled to get to sleep that night. I was excited about my birthday, but I kept thinking about Penelope and Hannah, giggling into the night as I lay alone in the darkness.
In the morning Kat, Dad and Jamie came into my room holding 5 parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper with purple ribbons and bows. Presents! I ripped open my card and put on my big flashy badge that Dad gives me every year! I love it! I gave Dad a hug and opened my prezzies in size order, staring with the biggest!
The biggest was a squashy package that turned out to be a pink leather jacket with sequinned pockets from BHS. It’s amazing! Next, I open a box shaped present which is a pair of pink curling tongs. My hair’s so short I don’t know what I’ll use them for. It reminds me of Penelope and I feel a pang of jealousy. I still love it though! The next parcel is a pair of pink high heeled boots with dark pink ribbon laces. They are all from Dad. I think you can guess what my favourite colour is! Jamie gives me the next present, some sparkly rose clips and a matching hair band. Kat gives me a £10 voucher for Claries and a £10 voucher for BHS! I’m very pleased with my presents.
Kat offers to fix my hair and I don’t object. She adorns my head with my new rose clips. She slides on my matching hair band and smiles at her work. I pull on my new boots and my new jacket, feeling good, and rush to school.
When I get to school Hannah is nowhere to be seen. She’s usually dead early. Then I remember about Penelope and my good mood comes crashing down. I slope into the classroom.
As Mrs Taylor takes the register, Hannah and Penelope are still nowhere to be seen. Suddenly they walk in. They look like twins. Their blonde hair is twisted into a bun and a single thin plait stretches across their foreheads. Their lip gloss is shiny and they are wearing identical short tight skirts and black leather jackets. They have black pixie boots with incredibly high heels and as they sit down I see they are each wearing a locket with Best Friends engraved on it. I feel hot salty tears welling up in my eyes. My best friend is deserting me on my birthday, of all days! I put my head on the desk and get on with the division questions in silence.
At the end of the day, Hannah trailed home with me for my ‘special birthday treat’. I really had no idea what it was and I couldn’t get excited about the prospect of it with Miss Miserable stomping beside me in silence. She doesn’t half hold a grudge sometimes. Actually, it should have been me complaining since she’s the one going off with old Penelope Prissy-Pants! Except, I’m definitely not the type to hold a grudge – its way too hard! It’s far easier being cheerful because it makes you feel incredible!
Anyway, all the way through my treat (which was a trip to the leisure pool and dinner at Frankie and Benny’s) you could just see Hannah wondering what Penelope (or Penny – ha) was doing. She hardly ever spoke. On the other hand, I had the time of my life! Even though my best ever friend was abandoning me for someone else.
5 minutes after we got home, Kat and Dad shepherded me into the kitchen. Kat was positively glowing, her face still made up with her special red lippy and her best glimmering gold eyeliner. Dad was smiling brightly as he put his arm around her. Their eyes met and they laughed.
“We’ve got something to tell you, Jee,” Dad said gruffly, but obviously excitedly.
“Paul and I are getting married!” Kat announced with a little giggle, tossing her hair.
Dad turned to me expectantly. “Isn’t it great?” he asked.
Tears sparkled in my eyes like diamonds and I tried my best to lie. I gulped nervously.
“Yeah, that’s great!” I told them. I’m an absolute rubbish liar.
Kat moved closer to me. “You don’t want us to, do you, Jee?” she whispered, looking extremely hurt. I shook my head and as I began to cry I rushed up into my room.
I lay curled up on my camp bed mattress, but I sat up when I heard my door creak. Kat came and sat beside me. She looked so concerned. I really couldn’t stand that, so I burrowed under my covers and pretended I was sleeping. I listened carefully to Kat, even though I didn’t really want to hear what she said.
She admitted, “I know you’re not keen on the idea of Paul and I getting married because of Bridgette and how Paul still loves her. I know he does, and for you it must be hard to accept. But he hasn’t forgotten her, just like he’ll never forget you, Jee. I love Paul and I love you, and Paul loves us both too. We’re getting married on Sunday and it’s all planned. You can try your bridesmaid dress on tomorrow night, okay? Love you, Jee.”
“Mmmhmm,” I murmured, in a half-hearted response as Kat crept out of the room. How dare Kat mention Mum? And Sunday? Brides-maid dress? THIS Sunday? Oh no.
I’m their bridesmaid.
Well it’s the Big Day. It’s been a busy week, but also a good one, minus Penelope and Hannah’s sniggering. I learned to accept the new marriage – and of course it’s very exciting.
Dad, according to Kat, looked very handsome in a blue tailored suit and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the top. His hair is slicked back with gel and his shoes are made of expensive brown leather. He smiles at me.
Jamie is like a miniature Dad, in a little pink suit and a tiny white shirt. His hair is spiked up and he shuffles along, grinning cheekily. Everyone coos at him and he laps it up like cats lap milk.
I tried on my dress and even I like it! It’s a soft baby pink with thick straps and a straight skirt. I have my best (polished) white sandals with the pink flowery straps and a bouquet of pink roses. My hair is expertly straightened and effortlessly shimmers. Everyone is saying just how beautiful I look. If I look beautiful, then I’m positive that Kat must be drop dead gorgeously stunning!
Her long chocolaty brown, hair is softly curled into loose ringlets and her palest pink lipstick is applied with perfect shine. Her long lashes are curled with jet black mascara, and they flutter as her hazel eyes blink nervously. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Kat so worked up.
The dress is the icing on the cake. A strapless white cascade of velvet and silk, patterned with starry crystals. A matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace glint on her creamy golden skin. She walks gracefully in her cream stiletto sandals. Everything is perfect.
“I do,”
“I do,”
“You may kiss the bride!”
“Cheers, mate”
Everyone laughs and whoops. So do I.
It’s over now. Katalina Elizabeth Gondova (Kat) is now Kat Lizzy Carmen, the new wife of Paul. Somehow, I’m quite pleased about this. I’ve got two mums, which feels very weird!
They let me cut the cake. I felt very important clutching the scarily sharp knife and blushing when the crowd cheered as I slid it through the creamy pink icing and sliced the delicate chocolate cream sponge. It was decorated with exquisite little crystallized roses and they tasted even better than they looked!
We party so hard we don’t get to bed until at least 3 am. I’m dead tired when I get up at nine, and it takes me a while to spur into action and realise I’m late for school. Plus, I get Kat to gel my hair and spray it with glitter spray. I also slip on my new pink jacket and my pixie boots. I feel I look good, and am so caught up with looking in the mirror I have to be reminded I’m late, and I run all the way to school.
I’m still 45 minutes late and Mrs Taylor isn’t best pleased. Hannah gleams in content and spends most of Maths whispering and giggling with Penelope. I can hear words like, hair, nails, New Look, and clothes. But then I can hear, annoying, stupid, babyish, and Jee. Fire burns inside of me and I suddenly feel very sick.
“What?” I wonder, anxiously annoyed.
Penelope smirks knowingly. School’s a serious nightmare with them around. I really CAN’T be bothered with stupid old Hannah anymore. I suppose I’ll find a new friend sooner or later. It doesn’t exactly bother me. I’m fine by myself, I swear. Oh well, I’m such a terrible liar. First the wedding and now this, but of course I’m happy with the wedding now. I need someone to talk to. It’s so boring being alone all the time. I’M boring.
I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself, should I?
I slammed the front door, dumped my bag on the chair in the porch and strolled into the living room. There were clothes and suitcases EVERYWHERE. I cautiously picked my way over to the sofa and slumped on the faux fur cushions. I tackled Jamie for the remote, who was throwing Kat’s blue check print dress around the room. It was getting very dusty as I switched on the TV. A few minutes later, Jamie had got bored with the blue dress and was playing football with Dad’s best white jacket. I sigh and shake my head disapprovingly.
Kat and Dad came and sat next to me, one on either side.
“You know we’re having a honeymoon, don’t you Jee?” Kat said brightly
“We’re leaving tonight,” Dad added quickly.
I nodded. They’d already told me and I understood.
“Jamie is going to stay with Nan,”
At least I wasn’t staying with Nan. She kind of scares me with her dyed blond hair, her wrinkles and her clown red lipstick, her skimpy hot pink vests, her tight white pencil skirts and her black stilettos. I’d hate to stay at her flat.
But what Dad said next came as a shock.
“You’re going to stay with Bridgette!”
Stunned, I said, “Mum?”
“Yes, you’re leaving in about an hour Jee so you better start packing!”
It’s too good to be true! Kat and Dad are going to Jamaica for a week’s honeymoon and I’m going to stay with Mum in an hour. Mum. MY Mum, who I haven’t seen since she walked out on us, which was nearly eight years ago. I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified. I guess I’m both, really.
Packing is easy-peasy and takes less than a minute. I just stuffed my clothes, and my pyjamas and my wash stuff into my pink leather bag with the purple ribbon bows. I took more care with my special things.
I folded my tight pink jeans and packed them carefully. I put my curling iron in its carry case and also packed my rose clips and my hair band. I had my boots and my jacket on. Then I was done.
Our car screeches up in front of Burnsdale House. Mum has Flat C, so I ring the doorbell labelled Bridgette in scrawled pen. My hand is shaking. In fact, my whole body is shaking. The doorbell echoes spookily.
As the door slides open I feel like I’m going to faint. A woman nothing like my photo of Mum answers it. This woman has a bleached blonde crop of gelled spikes and orange fake tanned skin. Her lipstick is bright red and her eye shadow is neon pink. Her lashes are long, glittery and fake. She totters in her black stilettos and she has to keep hitching her strapless black dress up, so short you can see her lacy red underwear.
Whereas the Mum in the photo has long brown locks twirled into millions of tiny plaits and soft creamy white skin. Soft coral lipstick sparkles on her lips and her toffee coloured eye shadow is smooth. She’s in her comfiest black pumps and a cosy home knitted lilac jumper. Her jeans are fitted and look amazing in a homely way. She smiles warmly.
The new Mum lets me hug Dad and Kat goodbye. I breathe in the scent of Dad’s lemon aftershave and try to remember the smell of Kat’s flowery perfume. It’s the smell of home and of family, and I have to leave that behind. Mum breaks me out of my bubble as she shoves me inside her flat and shoos my family away.
I have a good peer around Mum’s flat. It’s untidy and messy everywhere, clothes and magazines and empty cans floating on the red lino. But her bedroom is different. The only mess is the lacy underwear strewn everywhere and the heaped tables of gossipy celeb mags.
There are hug glossy snaps of Mum in her underwear, posing glamorously for the camera, wiggling and pouting. Ew. There are cards stood up on her dressing table, Valentines adorned with hearts and doves. On closer inspection, her huge stylish wardrobe is stuffed with tight skirts, heels and skin tight vests.
It’s like she’s 18, not 27. Honestly.
She saunters in and gives me a quick, perfumey hug.
“Hi sweetie – I haven’t seen you in ages! I got you a couple of prezzies, nothing special!” she handed me three parcels in pink tissue paper with the biggest silver ribbons I’d ever seen.
I opened them eagerly, but feeling guilty because I felt I shouldn’t be accepting gifts from someone I already detested.
The presents turned out to be a very expensive shiny pink lip gloss, a huge pink hair bow and, best of all, a tight fitting baby pink DKNY t-shirt. I thanked this stranger I should call Mum and hugged her.
“Pink’s your favourite colour, am I right?” she asked, grinning.
I nodded.
But then she sat down, showing too much of her orange leg, and explained,
“Listen, I know it’s your first night here, but Dave asked me down the club and I just can’t resist. Oh he is such a hottie!” she giggled, sounding like an excited teenager, “I’ll maybe have a few drinks and a little dance, okay honey?”
I was very shocked and faintly annoyed. I found it hard to answer.
“Ok,” I stammered. I really wasn’t sure what to say. How could she leave me? I’m only 10. I wasn’t sure I liked this new Mum.
Mum gave me the TV remote and created me a bed of blankets and cushions on the leather sofa. She added kiss, leaving sticky red marks on my cheek. I rubbed them off hastily when she wasn’t looking.
She slammed the door with a boisterous bang and clicked quickly down the street in her heels.
Suddenly, I was alone. Every tiny creak or groan seemed to spook me. At every whirr of the washing machine I jumped about 10ft in the air with terror. I tried my absolute hardest to watch TV, but even Cbeebies scared me. I’m such a wimp.
Maybe I should stop putting myself down. Ha.
The hours of loneliness were endless. I dismissed the very idea of sleep straightaway because sorry but NO WAY was I closing my eyes. How would I know who or even what was creeping up to attack me?
In the end, I watched the clock tick round and read my new book, Even when I was settled and calm, I had to keep peering up every few seconds to check no-one was there.
Finally, around 2 am, Mum returned. But hers wasn’t the only voice. Presumably she’d brought Dave home. Not wanting to be spotted, I snuggled down under my blankets and threw a cushion over my head to muffle my breathing. I was panting like a dog and I had no idea why.
Whispers and goodbyes and slightly (or very) drunken ones, probably after sneaked vodka, the boyfriend leaves with a clang and all is peaceful. Mum groans and falls asleep on the other sofa. She’s drunk.
I’m finally not alone and unprotected, but deep down I know I’m not safe and I feel so alone. I miss Kat, I miss Dad, I even miss Jamie, but most of all I miss Hannah; I REALLY should stop feeling sorry for myself and do something about it like – zzzzzzzzz…
Again, I didn’t wake until 9. I’m always rushing these days. Yawn.
Mum was still flat out on the sofa so I decided to hunt for my own rations. All I could find was out of date Weightwatchers Low Fat yoghurts and some stale bread. I wasn’t particularly hungry after that discovery. No wonder Mum was so slim.
I settled for a glass of juice and got dressed hurriedly. We don’t have a uniform at my school, so I choose my clothes carefully. I put on my pink jeans and my new t-shirt from Mum, hoping it would make Hannah jealous. She loved DKNY. Then I slicked on my new lip gloss and tried to fix my hair with my curling irons. It sort of worked, and I slid my new hair band in place. I stared in Mum’s full length mirror as I tied the ribbons on my pixie boots and zipped up my birthday present jacket.
Then I have a thought. How will I get to school? It’s a good 5 miles away from my new sort-of home and Mum is dead to the world. Plus I’ve got no money for the bus. I guess the only option is to walk. Off I go – hooray.
I wasn’t prepared for the walk at all. My jacket didn’t have a hood and my boots had extremely high heels for a 10 year old like me to manage. Exhausted and blistered with pain, I reached school at half ten, right in the middle of Maths. It was a rather successful walk, apart from my sprained ankle!
I get well told off.
“90 minutes late, Georgia Carmen! 90 MINUTES! 90! You waltz into my classroom like you own the place and you don’t do ANY work at all! Now sit down!” Mrs Taylor exploded like a volcano!
I had to slap myself to stop spluttering with laughter, but soon the whole class was snorting, apart from Hannah and Penelope. They didn’t seem to find it funny.
In actual fact, I wasn’t particularly concentrating. I hate Maths. All the numbers jumble around in my head and I never get the right answer. Hannah’s brilliant at it. I used to copy from her and it was alright but now she lets Penelope copy. Penelope – EW. I hate her. She’s far too fussy and flouncy for me. I hate that kind of stuff (even though my favourite colour is pink).
Anyway, the whole day wasn’t too great. Hannah and Penelope giggled and stared at me all day. They fluttered and flounced around, arms linked, wiggling and winking cheekily. I felt so lonely and my mind kept wandering. I was glad when it was over and I could go home.
Home. Where I belonged. Except I didn’t belong at Mum’s flat, not one bit.
I didn’t know if there was a place on Earth I belonged.
The walk home took AGES. I was tired and my feet were bleeding and sore. Eventually, at 5 o’clock I collapsed onto my sofa and I lay sleeping. Rubbing my drowsy eyes, I woke as Mum tapped my shoulder sharply and impatiently. She suddenly became soft and sweet. I knew what she wanted.
“Darling, I’m going out to the movies tonight, bah bye!” and with that she was gone like the wind. And I was alone again. She came home with her boyfriend Dave and she sent him home ten minutes later. I hid from them as always, under my shadow of blankets. It was like this every single night. On Wednesday it was the pub, Thursday the bowling alley and Friday the nightclub again.
And every night I sat huddled in a bar of worry and terror. Only two days until my family return, I tell myself on Friday. But can I even last that long?
I’m never going to stay home alone EVER again. I think I’ve got a fear of loneliness (loneliphobia or whatever).
Saturday, at last! A lie in without getting screeched at, at last. No 5 mile trek to school, at last. No eerie stares and teasing remarks, at last. Peace, at last. Or at least as much peace as possible.
I had a blissful day camped out on the sofa and watching TV. That was in the morning. Mum gave me a tenner in the afternoon, and she took me on the bus to the shopping centre. At least I didn’t have to walk!
I bought a huge Pick ‘n’ Mix and a bar of Dairy Milk – yum! I got a Girl Talk magazine and a bracelet too. It was the best fun I’d had all week.
But then Mum spoilt it all by saying she was going down to the pub for a drink and a dance.
She tucked me up with my blanket and handed me my sweets and the Sky remote. Not surprisingly, she was gone soon after that.
For some reason, I was more fidgety and restless that night than any other. Like my first night by myself I was shaky and shivery. I felt sick. Sick with terror and distress. Why? I knew Mum would come home. Well, I was almost sure.
Mum’s really not like I imagined. I though she’d be kinder, sweeter, more like she was before. Not like I knew her then, because I was only a little girl. She’s changed and even I know that. But I guess I should accept her the way she is. She accepts me, doesn’t she?
The routine starts up again that night. The door creaks. I spring into the air like a jumping jack. But its always only Mum, clinging onto Dave like a tiny, blonde haired, bouncy monkey. I hear whispers.
“I love you!” Mum simpers, clutching Dave’s arm tighter.
“You too, little baby,” Dave replies looking very bored and trying to release his arm from her painful grab.
It makes me want to laugh and throw up, it’s so utterly stupid. But soon later I can hear arguing, slapping and shouting. Well, I know what’s happening. My intense giggling has to be pillowed!
After Dave storms out, Mum begins to rant. She chucks cushions and drowns in tears and glasses of vodka. She gets angrier at every glass. I cower, properly scared for the first time now. She strides sharply over to me, clicking her tongue.
“What are you staring at, girl? You’re just a waste of space and an annoying whiny one too! I know exactly why I left Paul. It’s because of YOU! You were such a noisy little brat I knew I couldn’t cope. And look at me now!” she shouts.
She hit me, hard, and clunked her latest glass of vodka over my head. It split with a crash and I was drenched in sticky alcohol. Glass stung into my forehead and warm crimson blood trickled down my pink left cheek.
Oh the pain! It was searing and prickling and I couldn’t stop myself hitting and lashing out. Mum snorted in disgust and collapsed, groaning on the floor.
Hands shaking, I dialled the police and told them to come quick. I tried my very hardest not to cry but I couldn’t help it, even though I was sweating with effort. Soon hot salty tears were raining down my face.
They arrive in a matter of minutes. I tell them how Mum hurt me, shaking my head sadly. They spot my bruises and the shards of glass pricking my forehead. They frown and phone the ambulance. This worries me. Am I that bad that I need treatment, or even an operation?
I felt slightly guilty for telling on Mum but it hurt so much that I had to. And I hated her too. I hated all her boyfriends. I hated that she left me. I hated that she came home drunk and didn’t care. Didn’t care about me.
I spent the whole day in the local hospital, although thankfully I didn’t need an operation. I was carefully mopped up and my forehead was stitched. It hurt a lot, but I was ‘a brave little poppet’. That’s what the nurse called me. Lie. I mean, the nurse did call me that, but I screamed and wailed like a two year old. The nurse laughed delightedly and said ‘you’re a right laugh, Georgie Carmen!’ Then it was my turn to laugh with pleasure.
She was lovely to me. So was the doctor who stitched me up. His name was Dr Monton and when the kindly nurse’s shift had finished, I played cards with him for a while. I fell dead asleep in the middle of Blackjack.
I awoke sharply, banging my head off the bed when I heard Kat’s worried voice.
“Jee? Jee? JEE? Talk to me, Jee!”
I blinked and sat up slowly, rubbing my sore black eye wearily. Dad and Kat were slumped on adjacent and identical blue plastic chairs. Not the most exciting furniture choice, I must admit, but it was a hospital after all. Kat was peering up anxiously, her hazel eyes surrounded in puffy redness. It looked like she’d been crying.
“All of us have been VERY worried Jee. It was a horrendous shock to discover you’d been hospitalized in the middle of the night and Bridgette was being questioned,” Dad explained, patting my back, which thankfully was bruised or scarred at all.
“What did she do to you?” Kat asked in a concerned way.
“Well,” I started, “She left me home alone every night while she was out partying and drinking with Dave, her new boyfriend. And she came home drunk and she hit me and threw a glass at me and, worst of all, she said I was a waste of space!” I was getting worked up and shaking at the memories of the night before.
They were very comforting, and so were the nurses and doctors. They took care of me very well and a couple of hours later I was allowed home.
I slid into my comfortable bed. It smelt of scented lavender wash and love. It was good to be home.
I woke about 10, so I couldn’t go to school. Not like I was planning to or wanting to anyway, with three big black stitches for all to see on my forehead. As I pulled on my monkey dressing gown, I strained my ears because I could hear awkward conversation downstairs.
There were four voices, arguing away contentedly.
One was Kat’s, another Dad’s; there was a young, but low and stern voice, and the final one I recognised all too well. The voice protested and moaned, but it was high and fussed and very slurred. It was still fairly new to me. Mum.
She was here, in my house, in my kitchen, in fact, shouting at my dad and my step mum. Then I decided the other voice was a policeman’s. I went downstairs quickly to observe a closer look.
Sure enough, there was Mum. She was tightly handcuffed and appeared extremely annoyed. I hurriedly decided to sit as far away from her as possible. The policeman stood behind her protectively and looked impatiently at his watch.
Seeing me, Mum simpered up at the inspector.
“Two more minutes, please?” she pleaded.
He nodded firmly and allowed her to carry on. She reached over to hug me but I wriggled away. I was glad I wasn’t sitting next to her. I hate her.
“Darling, I’m sorry, girl, it’s just that Dave broke up with me and I was a teensie bit angry, that’s all. Forgive me, sweetie, please!”
“I’m not going to forgive you, EVER!” I shouted, jumping up and striding over to face her, “You put me in hospital and made MY family worried sick. You’re a terrible mother; I wish you weren’t part of me and I HATE YOU!” I stormed upstairs. Phew.
I could hear the policeman warning Mum, and swiping her out of our house. She protested very loudly. I could hear Dad and Kat sighing heavily as they thanked the helpful policeman. I could hear the over-excited roaring blue siren of the police car. I could hear Dad and Kat climb the creaky stairs to my room. Then I could finally see them!
They came and sat next to me on my bed. It was like they could read my mind. They explained everything I’d been wondering about.
I woke up at 7! Hooray – no more rushing! I though of the conversation I’d had the very night before.
“Because of what Bridgette has done to you…” Dad started.
“Terrible things!” Kat interrupted brightly.
“She has been charged with abandonment, unacceptable child care and responsibility issues. She’s been sentenced for 3 years in prison. That should sort her out!” Dad finished.
This didn’t come as a shock, like you would probably (and normally!) expect. My views of Mum had dramatically changed in that few eventful days. No longer did I miss her, mourn her or love her. I purely hated her. I didn’t care if she was there anymore; I didn’t want her messing up my life because I was happy as I was. She had hurt me and my family and no matter how hard she begged, I wouldn’t forgive her. Ever? Never.
I savoured my chocolate spread pancakes, and my orange juice with no bits, obviously. Just how I like it.
Dad gave me a lift to school. I got out of the car shakily and limped into the playground. Every single blinking eye, azure blue, emerald green, chocolate brown, cloudy grey, was staring at me, presumably because I had great thick stitches in my forehead and a swollen eye. To make it worse, I was black and blue all over with bruises. There were more than a few laughs as I meekly perched on the creaky bench, wincing as I was battered with strong droplets of rain.
The bell jangled excitedly and we strode to line up, the air filled with murmured chatter. As we skipped up the few steps into our classroom, Mrs Taylor held me back. When every one had gone past, she quietly pulled the classroom door shut and I asked me if I was alright. I nodded as hastily as I could.
“If there’s anything, ANTHING at all, you want to talk about, come and see me, okay?” she advised, letting me kindly into the classroom and ruffling my hair.
“Well…can I move seats then, Mrs Taylor?” I pleaded.
“Oh…just this once, then!” Mrs Taylor grinned, “Where would you like to sit, Georgia?”
I pointed over by Claire, where she sat alone in the very back corner. No one wanted to sit next to her, and the result of that was that she had no friends and zero confidence. But, on the other hand, I had always thought she looked pretty, if in a mousy, shy way, and totally interesting. So I sat down next to her.
I enjoyed that single morning at school more than usual, in fact, more than I had enjoyed all of my school days that past week put together.
Claire and I got to know each other reasonably well. We clinked instantly and it was like we had been friends for years, not minutes. It was great fun. For the first time in ages, I felt like I had a proper friend and I felt accepted.
When the play time bell tingled, we rushed to bag the bench that everyone wanted. We got it! As a celebration, we shared our fruit with each other – bites of banana and crunches of apple and pear. We took turns dipping in the little pot of cream. Delicious.
Claire always laughed at my jokes, making her long dark plaits bounce up and down. She also had to keep hitching her little purple owly glasses up her nose because they kept falling down.
I really loved the day I was having, but apparently that wouldn’t last. At lunchtime, the mocking and the jeers started. Guess who started it. I don’t even have to tell you, do I?
“Look guys! It’s Swotty and Mouldy Jee! They make a perfect pear, except it would be horribly mouldy! Ha!” Hannah sneered, clinging to Penelope like glue.
Everybody laughed and clapped Hannah. She smiled and twirled, wanting to show off.
Penelope added, “I prefer Swotty, at least she’s not mouldy!”
That was definitely aimed at me. I wanted to cry like Jamie, but Claire was far stronger than and five times as courageous as me. She linked my arm and whisked me away, our heads held high.
I wish I could be as brave as her one day, even if it was just for a couple of hours in my life. I bet she’ll help me. We’re the bestest ever friends and that’s the kind of thing we’re prepared to do for each other.
It went on like this on Wednesday and Thursday, but we didn’t show that it hurt us. It hurt me less with Claire around, because at least someone was on my side. When you’ve got a friend, you can do anything, I swear. So we huddled even closer together like penguins and ignored them as best we could.
We still found it hard, as they were chanting as loud as humanly possible in our ears. If we told Mrs Taylor, we would be deemed as snitches and teased even harder. So we were forced to keep quiet. At least we were being teased together. All that mattered was that we were together, we had found each other. That sounds soppy – like a scene from a romantic movie!
On Friday, things began to change. The teasing stopped, for some reason, and we felt quietly and subtly accepted. At lunch time, Hannah shyly approached me and sat down next to me. She took my little finger and squeezed it tightly, like we used to do when we were only tiny.
“Listen Jee, I’m really sorry I ditched you for Penny. Please can we be friends? She begged, kneeling at my feet like a puppy. “I realised how horrible she is, and how horrible I’VE been!”
I was so relieved. Even having Claire wasn’t helping me forget about Hannah. We’d been best friends since we were two and I wasn’t simply going to throw that all away, was I?
“Ok!” I laughed, offering her a hand so she could stand up. I gave her a hug. “Let’s pinky promise to be best friends forever!”
Claire looked a bit mournful, and very left out. I don’t think she understood exactly what I meant.
“And you too, silly!” I giggled at Claire. Eventually she caught on and went rosy pink.
The three of us promised to be best friends for the rest of our lives. And it’s perfect.
But that’s not the end of my story.
I came home from school and Dad and Kat were waiting for me. I sensed something important was going on. I followed them to the kitchen table and we sat down.
“Jee, we understand it’s hard to take in the information about your Mum, so we are concerned, as your family,” Kat said, stroking my hair.
“About what?”
“About you, Jee,” Dad confirmed, “Are you alright about all of this?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They were concerned about me liking Mum? Of course I didn’t, after what she’d done.
“Of course. I never really got to know her so I’ve never properly missed her. I’m fine – promise!” I sang, trying to lighten things up.
“That’s good to know, Jee,” Kat smiled in relief. I laughed.
“Now we can enjoy our evening!” added Dad, giving me a warm hug.
So we did. We watched old movies and snuggled up on the homely green sofa with toffee popcorn, crunchy crisps, and cans of Coke so fizzy they left a tingling feeling in our mouths.
Dad settled Jamie down in bed and surprisingly he dropped of to sleep straightaway.
When Dad tiptoed back down, I suggested playing cards. Kat agreed enthusiastically. PROPER games of cards like Blackjack, Cheat and even Poker, using popcorn as poker chips. It was much better without Jamie messing up all the cards and wailing because he wants to join in.
I kept losing ‘cos I’m rubbish, but I was fun all the same. I stayed up WELL past my usual bed time. I was even more tired the next morning, but it didn’t matter, not really.
About half twelve I headed up to bed, yawing as I brushed my teeth rapidly with minty Colgate, like I do every single night.
I clambered into bed and read for a while, snuggling down until I was comfortable.
Kat came up to switch off my light, but instead of just walking away she slipped into bed with me for a hug.
She ruffled my hair, something I hate people doing, but I didn’t protest, not one weeny bit. She whispered into my ear.
“I love you Jee, you know that?”
“Yes. I love you, Mum.”
Ah, 10 year old drama was nice. I feel bad for your main character though, her life sucks. I'm glad it's better towards the end though. I kinda wonder what happened to Hannah that made her realize Penny wasn't a good person.