Lola Rose (18 page)

‘He's coming back, he said,' Kendall sobbed.

‘No he's not,' I said. ‘We don't want him back. Good riddance.'

‘Then . . . will Dad come back?' said Kendall.

‘No! We don't want
any
men – not Dad, not Jake, not that big fat Barry,
no one
.'

‘That's right,' said Mum. ‘To hell with the lot of them.' She leant against the wall, groaning.

‘Mum? Are you all right? Is it the lump?' I asked, panicking.

‘My head's hurting, that's all,' said Mum. ‘Will you just
forget
my bloody lump.'

She went back to bed and pulled the covers right up over her head. I knew she was just wanting to hide but it looked awful, as if she were in a shroud. I screwed up my face and hit my forehead to stop myself thinking it.

‘Lola Rose?' said Kendall.

‘It's OK. I've got a headache too. No wonder – all that yelling, you little monster!'

Kendall pulled a goofy monster face, curling his fingers into claws. He didn't really
want
to play. I saw him glancing fearfully at Mum. But he roared and ran round the room while I played the monster catcher with my big net.

‘For God's sake, clear off to school, you kids,' Mum moaned.

I didn't want to leave her on her own. ‘I'll stay and look after you, Mum. I'll take Kendall to school but then I'll nip back. I can make you black coffee and fix you some soup for lunch.'

‘I'm not ill, I've just got a hangover. All I want to do is sleep. You go to school, do you hear. I don't want old Bossy Boots Balsam ringing me up and giving me grief.'

So I went to school, though I couldn't get my head round any of the lessons. Kendall was in a state too. I shouldn't have started him off on the stupid little monster game. He wouldn't stop roaring in the classroom. They had to call for me to calm him down.

‘Has anything happened to upset him at home?' Kendall's teacher asked.

‘No, miss,' I said quickly.

‘He was really starting to settle down, making a few friends – but now we seem back to square one. Maybe I should talk with your mum, Lola Rose.'

‘Well . . .'

‘Or Dad? Kendall seems so very fond of him.'

‘He talks about our
dad
?'

‘Well, your step-dad.'

‘We haven't got a step-dad,' I said firmly.

When I got Kendall on his own I gave him a good shake that set him off howling. ‘It's your own fault! Just keep your mouth shut at school, right?'

Kendall whined all the way home. I wished I could run right away from him. And Harpreet. She was going on and on about her mum and how she'd thrown a fit because she'd caught her putting make-up on.

‘Not even proper make-up, just that glitter stuff, you know. But my mum goes bananas, right, acts like I'm this total slag. She goes on about her daughters bringing disgrace on the family. You are just so
lucky
, Lola Rose. Your mum doesn't care.'

‘My mum does care,' I said stiffly.

‘Yeah, but she lets you do what you want. Don't go all snotty on me! What's the matter?' Harpreet nudged nearer, lowering her voice. ‘Is she worse, your mum? Is she getting really sick?'

‘No!'

‘Yes,' said Kendall, snuffling. ‘She was ever so sick, I saw.'

‘That was because she was drunk, stupid.'

‘Your mum was
drunk
?' said Harpreet, rolling her eyes like her mother.

‘Not really
drunk
drunk,' I said quickly. ‘She's had a hard time. You don't understand, Harpreet. And neither do you, Kendall, so you just shut up.' I gave him another shake. ‘Telling people Jake's our step-dad!'

‘He is! What is he, then?'

‘He's nothing. He's gone now anyway.'

‘He's gone! You mean he's left your mum?' said Harpreet.

Her eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of their sockets. I hated the way she was hanging on my every word. It was like she couldn't wait to hear more scandal. I wasn't sure I wanted her for my friend after all.

‘My mum chucked him out. And good riddance,' I said, slapping my hands together.

‘My mum said it could never last,' said Harpreet.

‘I wish you and your mum would keep your noses
out
of our business,' I said.

I seized Kendall by the wrist and hauled him along, running away from Harpreet and Amandeep. Kendall yelled because I was pulling too hard but I didn't ease up. I ran faster and faster, my heart pounding. Every beat said Mum-Mum-Mum.

I thought she'd still be cowering under the covers – but her bed was empty. The whole flat seemed empty.

‘Mum?' I called. ‘
Mum!
'

‘Hiya,' said Mum, coming out of the bathroom. She was wearing her white jumper and leather skirt and high heels, looking a million dollars.

‘Oh Mum!' I said, and burst into tears.

‘Oh my Gawd, what's up with you?' said Mum, shaking her head. She'd just washed her hair and it bounced on her shoulders.

‘Are you all right, Mum?'

‘Of course I am, you silly sausage,' said Mum, putting her arms round me. Kendall scrabbled to get in on the cuddle too. Mum picked him up, laughing. ‘What's up with you, babe?'

‘Lola Rose . . . has . . . been . . . horrid!' he gasped, out of breath with running and crying.

‘Rubbish,' said Mum, tickling him where his neck joined his shoulders.

Kendall hunched over, squealing with laughter though his eyelashes were still stuck together with tears. I looked at his damp little face and felt awful.

‘
I'm
rubbish. I
have
been horrid. Kendall, I'm really really sorry.'

Kendall blinked up at me. ‘I
might
forgive you,' he said, sounding so funny that we all laughed.

‘Are you hungry, kids? Let's have tea, eh?' said Mum.

She fixed us this lovely treat meal just like a birthday party, with sausages on sticks and crisps and baby pizzas and ice cream in new glass bowls, purple for me, red for Kendall, with our new names written on our puddings in strawberry sauce.

‘See this, Harpreet!' I said inside my head. ‘My mum cares for us big time!'

‘You're the best mum ever,' I said, tucking in.

‘No, I'm not,' said Mum, nibbling crisps. ‘I haven't been very mumsie at all recently. I've left you kids alone too much. I'm going to be here for you now. No more shifts down that stupid pub of an evening. I'm well shot of that. I'll get a day job. I was thinking, maybe I could work on a make-up counter, or be a hairdresser, say – I'm good at doing hair, aren't I, Lola Rose?'

‘You're the best, Mum. You do your hair beautifully,' I said, patting her blonde curls. I thought you probably had to train for those jobs first but I didn't like to say anything to spoil Mum's mood.

‘I'm well shot of
J-A-K-E
too,' Mum said, raising her eyebrows at me significantly.

Kendall hadn't caught on to spelling yet and carried on licking his sausage like a lolly.

‘You bet, Mum,' I said.

Kendall experimented, dipping his sausage in his ice cream.

‘Eat your sausage properly, Kendall!' I said. ‘That looks totally disgusting.'

‘It gets mixed up in my tummy,' Kendall said. ‘So why can't I mix it up in my mouth too?'

‘OK OK, but don't be surprised if no one ever wants to sit down and eat a meal with you.'

‘I don't want anyone. Apart from George,' said Kendall, dipping George's furry jaws into the ice cream bowl too.

‘You're getting him all
mucky
,' I nagged, but I was relieved he wasn't throwing a tantrum about Jake.

I couldn't get over how calm Mum was about him. We had a girly heart-to-heart after Kendall was in bed.

‘I'm glad to be rid of him,' Mum said bravely.

I looked at her.

‘OK, I was nuts about him at first. Well, he is gorgeous. You must admit it, Lola Rose, he looks an absolute dreamboat – that hair, that flat stomach, that little bum—'

‘Well, you know what I mean. But I suppose I knew it wouldn't last, what with me being a little bit older and you kids and everything.' Mum sighed, smoothing the skin over her forehead. ‘Am I getting all wrinkly, Lola Rose? I've got frown lines, haven't I? What do you reckon on that Botox treatment? Do you think it would work? Maybe I'll treat myself if I get lucky on the lottery cards again, eh?'

‘You're bonkers, Mum. You haven't got any wrinkles!'

‘I
have
. And I'm getting all saggy and baggy too,' said Mum, sticking her chest out and staring down at herself critically. She patted her breasts as if they were two puppies. ‘Poor things. Still, I don't think this one's going to have to be sliced off.' She looked at me, her eyes very big and blue. ‘I went to the hospital today and saw this consultant.'

‘Mum! You didn't say!'

‘Well, I wasn't going to keep the damn appointment. But then I thought maybe I ought to. I mean, if it's just us, Lola Rose, then I can't take chances, can I? And if I
have
got something serious then I need to get it treated, right?'

‘I wish you'd told me you were going. I'd have gone with you. You hate hospitals,' I said, taking Mum's hand.

‘It
was
a bit scary. But I kept thinking I had to show Jake I'm not gutless. I had to wait
ages
and I was still feeling a bit groggy with the drink so I very nearly walked out. But I got talking to these other women waiting with me and it made me feel a bit better, knowing we'd
all
got lumps. And then the consultant himself was
gorgeous
– quite old, of course, but so good looking, lovely suit and beautiful hands with very sensitive, long fingers. It felt very weird taking my top off for him. I went all giggly and blushed like a schoolgirl.'

‘Mum! You're not meant to flirt with your doctor.'

‘Oh, you know me, I'll flirt with a floormop if no one else is around. But Mr Key is the bee's knees, I swear. He says he's not going to cut my boob off even if it is . . . cancer.' She said it in a whisper. ‘He's just taking the lump out, and some little thingies under my arm, in case they've got it too. So isn't that great? He swears he'll be able to cut kind of
under
my boob so it'll hardly show.'

‘When's he doing it, Mum?'

‘He said he'll put me at the top of his list.'

I thought about Mum in hospital. Then I thought about Kendall and me. My throat dried. I swallowed and waggled my tongue around to make a bit of spit.

‘Don't pull those silly faces. You look like poor old Bubble,' said Mum.

‘Mum, what about Kendall and me? When you're in hospital?'

‘Don't you worry about it, sweetheart. I asked a nurse and she said people only stay in a day or so. Well, I reckon I can have the little op and then discharge myself. So you'll only be on your own one night. You can manage that, can't you darling?'

I wasn't sure. I knew I'd be scared. But I wasn't baby Jayni any more. I was supercool Lola Rose. ‘Of course I'll manage, Mum, no bother,' I said.

‘That's my girl,' said Mum. She put her arms round me. We hung onto each other and hugged until our arms ached.

Mum stayed lovely day after day. She didn't go for another job just yet. She said she'd wait until after her operation. We used up the last of the lottery money. Mum kept treating us. Kendall had red ice lollies cut up in his cornflakes for breakfast and red ice-lolly soup for his tea. She read him
Thomas the Tank Engine
until she was hoarse. She took him swimming and let George take a dip too, though he reeked of chlorine for ages afterwards.

Mum made me Cadbury's chocolate sandwiches for breakfast and Ribena cocktails for my tea. She did my hair in a different elaborate style every day and made me up properly so that I looked almost pretty.

She also bought me my very own pair of purple high heels! I still couldn't walk in them properly even though they fitted, but I didn't care. I staggered round and round the flat in them, my bum sticking out, my ankles wobbling. I kept sticking out a leg, admiring the tautness of my calves, the arch of my foot, the glossy sheen of the purple leather, the dizzying splendour of those soaring high heels.

‘Walk naturally! You look as if you're on a tightrope,' Mum laughed.

Kendall kept begging to have a go in them. He looked a scream as he minced around like a miniature drag queen, his lips bright red from the lollies.

‘What a weird pair of kids,' said Mum, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. Her eyes suddenly welled up. She said it was the smoke from her ciggie but I think that was an excuse.

I kept crying at odd moments too, even when I wasn't thinking about Mum. I missed an easy catch playing rounders and my team moaned at me and I burst into baby tears. Some of the girls in my class said catty things about my new hairstyles and I rushed to the toilets to cry. I got stuck doing some new maths problems and slumped in my desk, snivelling.

I didn't really care about dropped balls and dopey girls and decimals.

‘What's the matter, Lola Rose?' everyone kept asking.

I couldn't tell them I was scared my mum was going to die.

No, of course she wasn't going to die. She probably didn't even have cancer. She was just going to have a tiny lump taken out, then she'd be as right as rain. I imagined Mum in a rainstorm, hair plastered to her head, hunched in her white jacket. She was soaked to the skin but she was smiling and singing, tap-dancing through the puddles in her high heels.