Candyfloss (26 page)

I didn’t think this was a good idea at all. ‘I’ll be fine, Dad, really,’ I said.

‘Well, if you’re sure, sweetheart. Schools do give me the heebie-jeebies. I always feel like I’m going to be told to stand in the corner with my hands on my head. What’s your Mrs Horsefield like, Floss? Bit of an old bag?’

‘She’s lovely, Dad!’

When we approached the school I saw a class was out in the playground doing PE.
My
class, with Mrs Horsefield in her prettiest white top and shorts showing all the class how to jog on the spot.

‘My goodness, is she a teacher?’ Dad whispered.

‘She’s Mrs Horsefield, Dad.
My
teacher. See, I told you she was lovely,’ I said.

‘I’ll say. You’re a lucky girl, Floss,’ said Dad. ‘OK then, pet, you run and join all your friends. I’ll come and collect you at going-home time.’

I gave Dad a quick kiss and started racing towards the gate into school. Dad waved with his big bandaged hand. Mrs Horsefield slowed to a standstill, panting a little.

‘Floss? Is that your father? Mr Barnes!’

‘Uh-oh!’ said Dad. ‘Looks as if I’m in trouble after all.’

He walked along by my side, his arms dangling. Everyone stopped jogging and stood still, staring. Everyone except Susan. She came flying across the playground and met me at the school gate. She flung her arms round me and gave me a great big hug.

‘Hello, Susan,’ said Dad. ‘I know you two girls are best friends but do you always greet each other with such gusto?’

‘No, no, Mr Barnes! I’m just so relieved to see Floss. I thought something awful had happened to her. One of the girls in our class said there’d been a fire in the chip van and I was so scared you’d both been burned. Oh, but you
have
been burned, Mr Barnes. Look at your poor hands!’

‘They’re fine, dear. I’ve just got the bandages on to keep them nice and clean. The nurse says they’ll clear up completely in a week or so.’

‘Oh, so you’ve just got first-degree burns. Thank goodness!’ said Susan, knowledgeable as always.

Mrs Horsefield came right over to us. ‘OK, Susan, you get back in line, dear,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Floss? There have been all sorts of terrible rumours running round the school. I tried phoning, but your telephone number seems to be out of order, Mr Barnes.’

‘Oh dear, that would be the old number, yes. Silly of me not to have let you know. I’ll give the school my mobile number. We’re temporarily staying at a friend’s house but I expect we’re moving on soon, during the school holidays.’

‘Flora’s had to cope with quite a few changes recently,’ Mrs Horsefield said quietly, careful that the others shouldn’t hear.

‘Yes, yes, I’m afraid she has, but she’s been a little star,’ said Dad. ‘She’s such a good girl, my Floss. She might not always be up to speed with her lessons. I think she’s a bit of a dreamer, like her old dad, but I know she tries really hard, Mrs Horsefield.’

‘I know she does,’ said Mrs Horsefield. ‘Mr Barnes, you do know you can come in to see me any day after school? I always stay on in the
classroom
for a good half-hour or so. If there’s anything you want to discuss, any problems, any advice – well, that’s what I’m here for.’

‘Thank you,’ said Dad. ‘I wish I’d had a smashing teacher like you when I was at school.’

‘Dad!’ I hissed.

Dad laughed at me and pretended to punch the tip of my chin with his bandaged fist. ‘Am I embarrassing you, darling? That’s what dads are for,’ he said. ‘I’ll come and meet you after school, OK?’

He backed off across the playground. When Mrs Horsefield blew her whistle and got everyone to start jogging again,
Dad
started jogging too, arms pumping, feet pounding. We could see his head bobbing up and down all the length of the school fence. Susan laughed fondly. So did some of the others. Rhiannon and Margot and Judy laughed too, but they were standing with their hands on their hips, eyebrows raised.

‘Look at Smelly Belly Chip!’ said Rhiannon.

‘Like, who does he think he
is
?’ said Margot.

‘He’s so fat! See his big bum! Smelly Belly Waggle Bum!’ said Judy.

They all laughed harder. I hated all three of them. When Mrs Horsefield told us to start running properly I forged ahead, kicked Rhiannon right on her own bum, then Margot, then Judy, kick kick
kick
like a soccer star. Then I charged out of their way before they could get me back.

I couldn’t keep out of their way for ever. I couldn’t keep out of
anyone’s
way at break time. Everyone crowded round me in the cloakroom, wanting to hear all about the fire. The story had already spread rapidly and had become wildly exaggerated. Dad and I had been besieged by thousands of yobs who had deliberately set the chip van on fire with us inside.

‘No, no, it wasn’t like that at all!’ I said.

‘So what
was
it like?’

‘Tell us, Floss.’

‘Yeah, come on, Floss, tell!’

So I started telling the whole story myself, and as I got into it I couldn’t help doing a
little
exaggerating myself. I had my dad leaping out of the van, knocking knives out of guys’ hands kung-fu style. I demonstrated enthusiastically. I had Dad snatching Saul from a serious stabbing, protecting his girlfriend, bashing all the yobs and sending them flying.

‘Oh wow, Floss, your dad’s fantastic!’

‘That’s so cool!’

‘Did he
really
beat them all off?’

‘Of course he didn’t!’ said Rhiannon. ‘Old Smelly Belly Bum Chip couldn’t bash so much as a baked potato. You’re telling whopping great lies, Floss.’

‘I am not! Well, he might not have hit them all. And maybe there was just
one
knife. But I’ll tell you something, and I swear this is true. When the fryer caught fire in the van I was trapped, and I would have burned to death there and then if Dad hadn’t braved the flames and fought his way over to me and carried me out,’ I said.

‘Your dad’s truly heroic, Floss,’ Susan proclaimed.

‘Yes, isn’t he,’ I agreed proudly.

‘Rubbish,’ said Rhiannon.

‘Yeah, like, totally gross,’ said Margot.

Judy didn’t say anything but she made a very rude noise.

‘Take no notice of them, Floss,’ said Susan. ‘They’re just jealous of your lovely dad.’

‘Jealous!’ said Rhiannon. ‘My dad earns fifty thousand a year in his car business and he’s always buying me heaps of stuff and taking us on fantastic holidays, and people say he looks very like Tom Cruise.
Plus
he doesn’t smell, so why should I be
jealous
, Swotty Potty?’

‘Floss’s dad loves her tremendously and talks to her as if she’s his special friend and plays with her heaps and does funny things to make her laugh and takes good care of her,’ said Susan.

I squeezed Susan’s hand, so moved I could barely speak.

Rhiannon still sneered. ‘Takes good care of her! You must be joking! My mum says it’s appalling. She’s thinking about going to social services and reporting Floss.’

‘
What?
’ I said.

‘You heard me. Or if you didn’t, wash your ears out, and wash the rest of you too so you don’t stink so much, Smelly Chip,’ said Rhiannon.

‘Your mum isn’t
really
going to the social services about me, is she, Rhiannon?’ I said.

‘Yes, because she’s truly worried about you. First your mum walks out on you—’

‘She didn’t! You
know
she didn’t!’

‘And now your dad’s café’s gone bust and you haven’t got a proper home any more and you look a sight and you smell, and now it seems your dad’s dragging you off to his chip van every night and getting into fights and you very nearly end up getting burned to death – your very own words, Smelly Chip. My mum says you need some kind lady to look after you properly. So you wait, the social services will come and get you and put you in care if you don’t watch out.’

22

RHIANNON’S WORDS RANG
in my head all day at school. Susan kept telling me that I mustn’t worry. Rhiannon was just trying to wind me up. No social worker could ever doubt that I had two parents who loved me and cared for me.

I knew she was right, but I was scared all the same. When the bell went for home time I peered round the school gates anxiously in case there were social workers lurking, ready to capture me. But there was Dad, smiling and waving his bandages at me.

‘Look, there’s Floss’s dad!’

‘Hey, Mr Barnes!’

‘Hello, Mr Barnes. You’re a hero!’

Dad grinned at all the kids in my class. Thank goodness he didn’t seem to notice the three girls who walked straight past him, rudely holding their noses.

‘How have you been today, Floss? You haven’t
felt
funny or had any coughing fits, have you? I’ve been a bit worried about you,’ said Dad, cuddling me close.

‘I’ve been a bit worried about
you
, Dad! How have
you
been today? How are your poor hands?’

‘They’re OK, sweetheart. I’ve managed fine, though it’s a bit of a palaver going to the loo! It’s not that easy to cook either. I think you might have to give me a hand making tea.’

‘Glad to, Dad.’

‘But we’re not having chips! I don’t want to see a chip fryer for a long long long time.’

‘Are you going to give up being a chip cook, Dad?’

‘Well, I’ve got to
work
, pet, and there’s not a lot else I can do. I went down the job centre today. The girl there was quite helpful. She even filled in the forms for me, seeing as I’ve got my hands bandaged. Lucky that, as I’m total rubbish when it comes to spelling! But she was quite frank about my chances. They’re not that great. Still, you never know . . .’

‘Something might bob up out of the blue!’ we said together as we turned the corner down Oak Crescent.

There was a bright pink car parked outside Billy’s house. I’d once seen a caravan exactly that colour.

‘Dad!’ I said.

‘What, pet?’ said Dad. Then he saw it too. He stopped still, staring.

‘Come on, Dad,’ I said, starting to run.

‘Hey! Hang on, wait for your old dad!’

I left him behind and rushed to the car. Saul and Jenny were squashed up in the back. Rose was in the front, her beautiful red nails tapping a tune on her white leather steering wheel. She had two red velvety roses dangling from her driving mirror.

‘Hello!’ I shouted.

They all saw me at once. They smiled and started getting out of the car.

‘Hello, little Floss,’ said Rose, and she gave me a hug.

She was wearing tight black trousers and a lovely deep pink top patterned with red roses. Her toenails were painted dark red too, peeping out of her high-heeled sandals. She even
smelled
of red roses. I wanted to hang onto her and breathe in her lovely soft warm smell.

‘So where’s your dad then, Flossie?’ said Rose.

‘Just coming! There he is,’ I said, gesturing.

Dad was ambling along, his arms hanging at his side, head bent bashfully. He looked really odd, as if he was
shy
.

‘Well, goodness me, this is a surprise!’ he said.
His
voice sounded weird too, as if he couldn’t catch his breath.

He went to shake Rose’s hand and then remembered his bandage. He paused awkwardly, half waving in the air.

‘Come here!’ said Rose, and she gave him a big hug too. ‘I want to thank you for looking out for my boy.’

‘I didn’t really do anything, honestly,’ said Dad, going bright red in the face, but looking pleased all the same.

‘How are your hands, mate?’ Saul asked. He waggled his sling. ‘Look at us! Talk about the walking wounded!’

‘You’re a magnet for trouble, Saul, always have been, always will be,’ said Rose, shaking her head. ‘But what about you, Mr Barnes? Are your hands badly burned? Let’s go into the house. I want you to show me. I don’t trust you strong silent types, you don’t make enough
fuss
! I’m so glad Saul remembered the right house after all. I got a bit worried when we first knocked half an hour ago and no one was in. Still, I thought you were probably meeting your little girl from school – and I was right.’

‘My Floss,’ said Dad. ‘Well, come in, come in, all of you.’

We trooped into Billy’s house. Whisky and Soda
and
Lucky were waiting in the hall, tails in the air, yowling hopefully for tea. Whisky and Soda backed away and hid behind the sofa, overwhelmed by all the guests, but Lucky was perkily sociable. She gave Saul and Jenny a nod, and actually came and rubbed herself against Rose’s shapely ankles.

‘Hello, little cat,’ said Rose, bending to give her a stroke.

‘She’s my cat. She’s called Lucky. Oh, she
likes
you, Rose,’ I said.

Lucky was daintily licking Rose’s toenails as if in homage.

‘And I like
her
, darling,’ said Rose. She carefully stepped round Lucky into the living room. ‘Oh, what a . . . nice big room,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Yes, you’ve got a lovely huge house, Mr Barnes.’

‘Call me Charlie, please. And it’s not
my
house. It belongs to an old pal of mine. Floss and I are only here temporarily like.’