Lily Alone Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Introducing Lily

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Visit the Website!

  About the Author

  Also by Jacqueline Wilson

  Copyright

  About the Book

  LILY’S THINGS TO REMEMBER!

  HOW TO LOOK AFTER MY BROTHER AND SISTERS

  1. Make sure they eat three meals a day – and not just ice cream!

  2. Keep clothes not too mucky!

  3. Everyone must go to bed before midnight, especially Pixie!

  4. Don’t let them go to school in case they give away our secret.

  5. Keep everyone safe till Mum comes back . . .

  For games competitions and more, explore www.jacquelinewilson.co.uk

  LILY ALONE

  Jacqueline Wilson

  ILLUSTRATED BY NICK SHARRATT

  To Milan, Macey-Grace,

  Tom, Scarlett and Isaac

  Introducing Lily

  ‘You’ll make a lovely mum one day, Lily,’ Mum said. But it’s not true – I don’t ever want a load of kids yelling round me all the time. Living in our tiny flat with my little brother and two little sisters, I’ve had to put up with enough of that already. When I grow up, I’m going to live in a lovely big house all by myself. But for now, I’d be happy with just my own pair of wings. Then I’d go soaring up into the sky and over the trees of the park, instead of hiding in them with the little ones, hoping that no one finds out that Mum’s gone on holiday and left us alone . . .

  It was my fault. We were all sitting squashed up on the sofa on Friday night watching Coronation Street, the second episode of the evening. Well, none of us were actually watching. Pixie was squatting on the arm of the sofa rubbing tomato sauce round her mouth, telling us over and over again that she was wearing lipstick like Mummy. My littlest sister, Pixie, could win the world record for repetition. She’s three and talks all the time, though most of what she says is nonsense.

  My other sister, Bliss, is six, but she hardly talks at all. She was lying on her back on the sofa twiddling her long pale hair and snuffling into her old teddy. She had her favourite fairy-tale book tucked beside her. Her twin brother Baxter was driving a matchbox up and down her legs, pretending it was a car, making silly whining racing noises.

  I was flipping through the pages of one of Mum’s magazines, wondering what it would be like to be rich and famous and trying to choose which lady I wanted to be. It was hard taking them seriously because they all had bushy moustaches. Baxter had clearly been busy with his blue biro at some earlier stage.

  Mum was the only one of us sitting up properly and watching the screen but I knew she wasn’t following all the Corrie people. She didn’t change position when the adverts came on. She just sat staring, her chin on her hand, her eyes big and blank.

  ‘Mum?’ I reached out and gave her a little poke. ‘Mum, are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You don’t look OK.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Lily,’ Mum said wearily.

  She was always acting tired now, since Paul died. She was too tired to get up in the mornings, too tired to go to bed at night. She was too tired to go to work and then when she lost her job in the canteen, she was too tired to get another one. She just stayed at home smoking and staring into space.

  I made her go to the doctor because I was dead worried about her. He gave her tablets for depression. He said it was natural to grieve for a while when you’d lost your husband. I didn’t get that. Mum didn’t like Paul much when he was around. None of us liked him, not even Pixie, and he was her father. He’d either be yelling and slapping at us, even Mum, or he’d be zoned out on the sofa, looking stupid in his vest and pants and socks. We weren’t allowed to sit on our own sofa when Paul was around. Mum muttered that he was a waste of space and a big mistake. She said she’d always had lousy taste when it came to men. That’s what I couldn’t understand. Whenever she didn’t have a man she turned into Zombie Woman, acting like it was the end of the world.

  I couldn’t bear to see her like that, especially looking so ordinary in her old baggy T-shirt and trackie bottoms. Mum could look fantastic when she wanted, better than any of the ladies in the magazines. When she got all dressed up to go out she could make my heart stop she looked so gorgeous. So that’s why I said it.

  ‘Mum, why don’t you go out?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go on, go down the Fox, see some of your old mates.’

  The Fox and Hounds is the pub over the road from our estate. It’s got a garden so in summertime the kids and I used to hang out there with Mum and Paul – and before that with Mikey, Baxter and Bliss’s father. Mum says she used to take me there when it was just the two of us. She’d wheel me there in my buggy and I’d sit crunching crisps, happy as Larry. I was always an easy baby, Mum said. She didn’t half get a shock when she fell for Baxter and Bliss. And Pixie’s a nightmare, she won’t sit in her buggy for two minutes at a time. She arches her back and screams when you try to get her in it.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Lily. I can’t go down the Fox, not with you lot.’

  ‘I’m not being daft. I meant to go on your own. The kids will be all right. I’ll babysit.’

  Mum looked at me, chewing one of her fingernails.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’

  Mum went on chewing, her hair in her eyes. I could tell she was considering. She’d left me in charge of the kids heaps of times, when she had to go to the post office or the newsagent or the off-licence (though it was my job to run down to the chippy).

  ‘I shouldn’t leave you lot on your own in the evening,’ Mum said.

  ‘You used to, when you first started going out with Paul,’ I reminded her.

  ‘Yeah, but I shouldn’t have. And that was when you were all tucked up in bed and asleep.’

  ‘I’ll put the kids to bed. I do it half the time anyway.’

  ‘I know. You’re a good kid.’ Mum reached out past Baxter and Bliss and stroked my cheek with her finger. ‘I forget you are a little kid sometimes.’

  ‘I’m not little! I’m eleven. And I’m old for my age.’

  ‘Yeah, you act like a little old woman a lot of the time. I love you, Lily.’

  ‘I love you too, Mum. Go on, go and get dressed up. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Well, maybe just for one drink, to cheer myself up a bit?’

  ‘Go on then.’

  Mum smiled, looking just like Pixie when you buy her an ice cream, and rushed off to her bedroom. Pixie toddled after her. She loved watching when Mum dressed up.

  ‘So Mum’s going out then?’ said Baxter, driving his ‘car’ across my face.

  ‘Leave it out,’ I say, swotting at him. ‘And give me that matchbox – you know it’s dangerous to play with matches.’

  ‘I’m not playing with the matches. I’m playing with the box. So can we stay up, yeah? We’ll watch a DVD, right?’

  ‘Not a scary one,’ said Bliss, hunching up into a little ball.

  ‘Not a scary one,’ I promised, though that was going to be a challenge. Bliss can’t even watch Up without shaking. I think it’s the dogs. Her dad Mikey had an Alsatian, Rex. It wasn’t a truly scary dog like a Rottweiler or a pit bull but it could be a little savage at times, even when it was a puppy. It looked all cuddly and cute so Bliss treated it like one of her te