Little Darlings (29 page)

It's all Big Mouth's fault that our family's been ripped apart and made so unhappy. I think about Mum at home and how miserable she'll be. She'll drink much too much and I won't be there to help her up to bed.

I glare at Lizzi when she asks me if I'd like my face painted too. ‘No, thank you,' I say coldly – though I'd actually love to see what I look like with flowers and stars and butterflies on my face.

‘OK, I'll make your dad up then,' she says.

I think Dad will make a fuss but he sits obediently on the bathroom stool and lets her paint his face. He's actually chuckling, enjoying himself. She turns him into a vampire, making his face very white, with dark rings round his eyes and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looks pretty scary, and Sweetie and Ace squeal in delighted horror. Dad chases them round the suite pretending he's going to bite them, and they charge about, shrieking.

‘Dad, Dad, you're getting them too excited,' I say. ‘They won't settle at bedtime.'

Big Mouth looks at me. ‘How old are you, Sunset, seventy? Why can't you lighten up and let everyone have a bit of fun?'

She's not the one who gets woken up in the middle of the night with Ace screaming that the vampire's going to get him and bite him to bits. I have to rush Sweetie to the toilet too because she feels sick. Dad ordered room service for our dinner and let us choose anything we wanted. Sweetie chose three puddings – Ice-cream Delight, Chocolate Heaven and Lemon Yum-yum. They're not at all delightful or heavenly or yummy when they splash into the toilet. Sweetie needs a lot of mopping up and cuddling afterwards.

None of us sleep properly after that. We huddle up together in this king-size bed in the second bedroom. The pillows are too fat and the sheets are too tight and the room is too hot. We turn and fidget and fuss in our unfamiliar new nightclothes. Eventually I lie on my back and put my arms round both of them and they go to sleep at last. I stay wide awake, getting pins and needles in both arms. I try to pass the time by writing a song in my head, but I'm too tired and uncomfortable and feeling pretty sick myself. I ordered a salad thing from room service because I wanted to seem sophisticated. It came with black olives and terribly smelly fishy things that looked like worms. When I eventually fall asleep I dream about them wriggling inside my tummy.

We wake up late, but Dad and Big Mouth are
not up yet, sleeping on and on and on, their bedroom door firmly closed. I take Sweetie and Ace to the bathroom and we all get washed and put on our new clothes. We forgot to buy any underwear or socks, so we have to make do with yesterday's.

We go into the great big living room and I work out how to switch on the huge television so we're OK for a while, but we're all getting very hungry now, especially Sweetie, who lost all her puddings. I don't quite dare order room service, but I find a big fridge full of drinks and snacks, so we have a very odd breakfast of Coke and peanuts and Pringles and chocolate. Sweetie feels a bit sick again afterwards, and the Coke makes Ace burp a lot. He keeps on doing it just to be annoying.

‘I'm
bored
,' he says. ‘I'm going to wake Daddy.'

‘No. You can't. You know you can't wake him in the mornings. Besides,
she'll
be there.'

‘I don't like her,' says Sweetie.

‘You did yesterday when she painted your face.'

‘No I didn't! I was just pretending because I wanted to look pretty. I don't
really
like her one bit,' she says.

‘I don't like her either,' says Ace. ‘Mum's much nicer. Why does Dad like her better than Mum?'

‘Oh, you're too little to understand these things,' I say, though I don't really understand why either.

When Dad and Big Mouth get up at long, long, long last, we have a room service breakfast with them, though it's more or less lunch time now. Dad says he wants to take us all out. Ace asks to go to the zoo to see the tigers, even though he's been to the zoo and seen for himself that there aren't any tigers there.

‘I know another zoo – a good zoo, specially for children,' says Big Mouth. ‘There aren't any tigers – there are mostly little furry animals like monkeys – but you can get right up close to the meerkats. You know what meerkats are, Ace?' She does a sudden amazing meerkat impression, sticking her neck right up and quivering her nose, looking so comically like a meerkat that we all burst out laughing.

So we decide to go to this zoo in Battersea Park. Dad keeps on ruffling Big Mouth's hair, pretending to feed her titbits and calling her ‘my little meerkat' – which is totally sickening. But she's right, the zoo is lovely, and we can wriggle down a tunnel and put our heads up right inside the meerkat enclosure. Their little beady eyes stare back at us as if
we're
the funny animals.

Ace likes the pot-bellied pigs too, though I have to hang onto him hard to stop him hurtling over the fence to get in with them. Sweetie likes the
yellow squirrel monkeys. I prefer the little mice, who have their own big mouse house with proper furniture. I wonder about Wardrobe City and think how incredible it would be if I had real mice running round all its rooms, standing at the stove, jumping on the sofa, curling up on the bed. I wonder if I could secretly get just two little mice, though maybe not a boy and a girl because then they'd mate and there'd be lots of babies.

I look at Dad and Big Mouth. He's walking with his arm round her, cuddling her close. What if
they
have a baby? When Big Mouth stops and bends over the fence to stroke a big white rabbit (showing a great deal of her legs), I tug Dad's hand, pulling him a few paces away.

‘Dad – Dad, can I ask you something?'

‘What's that, darling?' says Dad. He's acting very relaxed and smiley – lots of people are recognizing him and he grins and nods all the time.

‘Dad, do you love Lizzi?'

He looks at me in sudden surprise. ‘Did your mum tell you to ask me that?'

‘No!'

Dad laughs. ‘Well, it's
her
favourite question too.' He waves in a courtly fashion to a bald grand-dad who gives him an eager thumbs-up sign and plays an air-guitar in homage.

‘So –
do
you?'

Dad sighs a little. ‘
I
don't know. Give me a break, Sunset.'

‘But I need to know, Dad. Are you really in love with her and planning to stay with her for ever – or are you going to come back to us?'

‘I tell you, I don't
know
. I just want to have a bit of fun, for God's sake. Is that too much to ask? Your mum's doing my head in, Sunset. She does her nut if I so much as twitch when a pretty woman walks by. I can't stay cooped up at home for ever. I'm used to walking on the wild side, being on the road, a different gig every night . . .'

I stare at Dad. He hasn't done a tour for donkey's years. He hasn't had a new album to promote. So what is he going on about? He's playing pretend games with Lizzi, kidding himself he's young again. It's like he's stepped into his own Wardrobe City.

Dad puts out his hand gently and touches my mouth.

‘What? Was I showing my teeth?' I ask anxiously.

‘No, no, kiddo, you were nibbling your lip. Don't worry so about your wretched teeth, Sunset. Your mum's just got a hang-up about them. I used to have exactly the same gnashers till I had them fixed.'

I stop. ‘Dad – Destiny, this girl who could be your daughter, remember –
she's
got funny teeth too.'

But I've lost him now.

‘Give it a rest, girl. I can't cope with any more daughters, real or imagined.'

He goes to join Big Mouth, giving her an embarrassing pat on the bottom.

I look round for Sweetie and Ace and can't see them. We have ten minutes of terror, running round the whole zoo before we find them back by the squirrel monkeys.

‘You two are a pair of monkeys. I need to put
you
in a cage,' says Dad, picking them both up and giving them a cuddle.

Big Mouth watches, yawning. I wonder if she'd like to settle down and have children with Dad – or does she just want to have fun too? She's looking at her watch.

‘Hey, Danny, don't forget we're going out tonight. Hadn't we better take the kids back?'

We're held up in traffic and don't get back home till nearly seven. Mum opens the door, her face white, her eyes red.

‘Oh, thank God!' she cries, and gives us all big hugs and kisses, even me. Then she turns to Dad. ‘How dare you deliberately torture me? You said
you'd bring them back this afternoon. I've been ready and waiting for them since two o'clock. I've been phoning you frantically, leaving so many messages, which you didn't even have the decency to answer!'

‘Hey, hey, calm
down
. I had my phone switched off. We were chilling out, enjoying ourselves, weren't we, kids?'

‘Yes, I want a pot-bellied pig for a pet, Mum!' says Ace. ‘They make such funny noises. Listen!' He grunts and snorts with gusto.

‘And I want a squirrel monkey,' says Sweetie. ‘Oh, Mummy, they're so sweet and lovely and funny.'

They're jumping up and down happily telling Mum. They're too little to see that this is a big mistake. It's just winding her up terribly – and yet she's the one we're going to be left with. Then Dad says goodbye and they both start crying. Ace gets cross and starts trying to kick Dad.

‘You bad bad daddy, you mustn't go!' he yells.

Sweetie sobs too, sounding heartbroken. ‘Oh, Daddy, don't go. Please, please, please don't go. I love you so much, I need you.
Please
stay, Daddy,
please
!'

Dad suddenly seems near tears himself, hugging Sweetie, burying his head in her golden
hair, whispering in her ear. I hug him too and he pulls me close.

‘There's my good brave big girl. I love you, Sunset.'

‘I love you too, Dad.' I can hardly get the words out because there's such a lump in my throat.

‘Look after your sister and brother for me, won't you, darling?'

‘Yes, I will, Dad, don't worry,' I promise – and then he goes.

It's so unexpectedly awful waving goodbye to him that I cry a little too. Claudia comes rushing downstairs and puts her arms round us.

‘Look, I'll thank you to keep out of things, Claudia. They need their mother now,' says Mum, taking us into the big living room.

Sweetie's shop is still there, waiting to be carried up to her playroom. Sweetie goes over to it forlornly, still sniffing. She measures out a portion of sweets on her scales. Ace takes a sweet and eats it, then another. The enormous Sweetie doll sits all by herself in an armchair, neglected.

Mum sinks onto the long sofa, her head in her hands, clearly feeling rejected.

‘Oh, Mum, we've missed you so,' I say awkwardly.

‘Don't be ridiculous, Sunset. You've all clearly
had a wonderful time with your daddy,' Mum sniffs.

‘Sweetie and Ace liked the zoo – but most of the time they were wretched,' I say. ‘We none of us slept properly.'

‘I didn't like my pjs, they were too tight,' says Ace, eating another sweet.

‘Those clothes you've got on are too tight too, darling. Did Dad buy them for you? Honestly, fancy not being able to choose the right size for your own son! I see you've got new clothes too, Sweetie. Why didn't Dad bother to buy you anything, Sunset? Why does he always leave you out?'

‘They
are
new, Mum. I wanted more of the same,' I say, but she's not listening now. She wants to hear about everything we did, demanding a minute-by-minute account.

‘And I suppose
she
was with you all the time? Do you like her? I bet she's fun, isn't she? Did you do lovely things with Lizzi?'

Sweetie puts her thumb in her mouth. Ace eats two sweets. Even they can see this is a leading question.

‘Take your thumb out of your mouth, Sweetie, you'll ruin your teeth. What about you, Ace? Do you like Daddy's new friend?'

‘She's funny when she pretends to be a meerkat,'
says Ace, stuffing a whole handful of sweets into his mouth. ‘But I don't like her either.'

‘Ace! Stop being such a little pig!'

‘I'm a pot-bellied pig, snort snort,' says Ace, laughing and dribbling horribly. ‘And I'm ever so hungry.'

‘I'm a bit hungry too, Mummy,' says Sweetie.

‘Didn't Daddy give you any tea?'

Sweetie thinks for a moment. ‘I don't think we even had
lunch
.'

Mum explodes at this. She starts telling
me
off for not making sure the little ones were fed. I try to explain that we nibbled from the mini bar and then had a large cooked breakfast at half past twelve, but Mum isn't interested in explanations.

‘You must be starving, you poor babies,' she says, opening her arms wide and giving Sweetie and Ace a big cuddle. ‘You must have some tea at once.'

‘Can you ask Margaret to make us pancakes, Mum?' asks Ace.

‘Oh yes, Mummy, I love Margaret's pancakes!' says Sweetie.

‘Well, I'm sure you can have pancakes, my darlings, if that's what you want. Claudia, Claudia!'

Claudia comes practically running. I think she might have been listening in the hall.

‘Make the children pancakes for their tea,' says Mum curtly.

‘Oh, I want Margaret's pancakes with special jam and cream, and she writes my name on the top with strawberry syrup,' says Ace.

‘Margaret is never around on Sunday evenings, Ace, you know that,' I say.

I go to help poor Claudia in the kitchen.

‘Margaret isn't around, full stop,' she says.

‘What do you mean?'

‘She's walked out – with John. They packed up early this morning, told your mother when she surfaced and cleared off. I rather think they've had a little chat with your dad. He wants John to keep on driving him around – and he'll need a cook as soon as he gets a new place.'