My Mum Tracy Beaker Read online

  Alfie gave an excited bark as if he understood every word. He pulled on his lead, urging me onwards.

  ‘Heel, boy,’ I said.

  He took no notice and went bounding ahead, zigzagging this way and that, winding his lead right around me. Then he stopped to do a wee, which made me giggle.

  ‘That’s it, Alfie. Wee-wees outside. Not indoors!’ said Sean Godfrey.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s properly trained,’ Mum said quickly.

  Alfie seemed uncertain about getting into the car, so I had to lift him in and then keep him cuddled up on my lap. When the car got going he started trembling, so I whispered to him soothingly.

  ‘It’s all right, Alfie. You’re safe with me. We’re taking you to your new home!’ Then I stopped. ‘Where are we taking him?’

  ‘We’re taking him to our new home,’ said Mum. ‘Change of plan! We’re moving in with Sean straight away.’

  WE HAD TO go back home for our things, of course. Mum packed quickly while I took Alfie for a walk all round the Duke Estate.

  We attracted crowds of children wherever we went.

  ‘Look, Jess Beaker’s got a dog!’

  ‘What’s your dog’s name, Jess?’

  ‘He’s so sweet! Can I pat him?’

  ‘But we’re not allowed dogs. You know that! He’ll have to be put down!’

  ‘Yes, if you don’t you’ll get evicted.’

  I just smiled at them all. Alfie smiled too, and wanted to give everyone a lick.

  It felt so great, everyone wishing they were me. But I didn’t have time to hang out with all the Marlborough Tower kids. I went over to Devonshire, which was where all the toughest families lived. The big boys were the worst. The Shireboys had knives, and once a kid from Marlborough was crazy enough to disrespect them and ended up in A & E. Even the little boys were scary and threw stones, and the babies in their buggies looked like they’d spit at you.

  ‘You’d better guard me, Alfie,’ I said.

  I hoped Alfie understood ‘guard’ better than ‘heel’.

  Two boys from Tyrone’s gang called, ‘What you doing here, Beaker Bum? Clear off back to your own tower or we’ll give you what for.’

  ‘You shut up or I’ll set my dog on you,’ I said.

  They didn’t shut up. They said worse things.

  ‘Get them, Alfie,’ I said, slackening his lead.

  Alfie went rushing up to them – and started licking their hands and wagging his tail. He was a total failure as a guard dog, but he was so cute the boys stopped yelling at me and squatted down to pet him instead.

  ‘Is he really yours, Jess Beaker?’

  ‘You’re not allowed dogs if you live here!’

  ‘Yes, but I’m moving, see. Me and my mum are going to live over at Sean Godfrey’s house,’ I said.

  They gawped at me. ‘You’re having us on!’ they said in unison.

  ‘No I’m not. His car’s parked down at Marlborough and my mum’s packing our stuff right this minute. I’ve come to show Alfie to Tyrone. Is he about?’

  They shook their heads.

  ‘Think he’s indoors,’ said one. ‘He’s on the ninth floor.’

  ‘There was a bit of a domestic going on earlier,’ said another. ‘Shouting and slapping and that.’

  It had taken all my courage to come over to Devonshire Tower. I didn’t dare climb the stairs to the ninth floor and knock on Tyrone’s door. His mum looked terrifying, and her boyfriend was probably worse.

  But luckily I wasn’t put to the test. One of the boys suddenly pointed. ‘There he is – over by the playground.’

  He was on one of the swing tyres, his back to us. They shouted his name but he didn’t turn round. He was hunched over, his head down.

  ‘Doesn’t look like he wants company.’

  ‘I’ll go and see,’ I said. ‘Come on, Alfie. I want you to meet my mate Tyrone.’

  We walked over to the play area. It was obvious there was something wrong with Tyrone. I could hear sniffling noises. I hoped he wasn’t crying. I coughed loudly so he’d know someone was coming.

  Alfie hadn’t understood about enemies, but he was brilliant when it came to my friends. He went rushing up to Tyrone and tried to lick his ankles.

  Tyrone wriggled and half laughed, half cried. Alfie jumped straight up on his lap and licked his face. Tyrone winced. No wonder. He had a bloodshot eye, and the skin all round it was puffed up alarmingly.

  ‘Oh, Tyrone, your eye!’ I said.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Did your mum thump you?’

  ‘Yeah, she did, but it was her boyfriend that punched me in the face for upsetting her. I hate him. I hate her too,’ said Tyrone. ‘Is this your Alfie then? Wow! You lucky thing, Jess.’

  ‘I looked for Staffie at Battersea. I saw a brown one, but I don’t think he was yours,’ I said sadly.

  ‘Probably not. I had him ages ago.’

  ‘Tell you what – you can have a little share of Alfie, if you like. We’re not going to be living here any more, but I’ll get Sean Godfrey to drive me over sometimes, and then you can take Alfie for walks with me if you want,’ I said.

  ‘That would be great. With Sean Godfrey too?’ Tyrone asked hopefully.

  ‘Yes, if you like. He says you’re very talented at football,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, but he didn’t really mean it.’

  ‘Yes he did, he told us. And he wants you to join his special squad. For nothing.’

  ‘Oh wow. Really?’

  I nodded. I sat on the next tyre and we both swung very slowly and gently so that Alfie wouldn’t get seasick. He kept jumping off Tyrone’s lap and jumping onto mine, and then back again.

  ‘You’re like a jumping bean, Alfie,’ I said.

  ‘He’s a great little dog.’ Tyrone stroked him. ‘You’re so lucky, Jess,’ he said again.

  I swallowed. ‘I know.’

  I kept telling myself just how lucky I was all the way to Sean’s house. I walked Alfie all round the huge grounds and showed him a tree far away in a corner.

  ‘This is a good place for wee-wees,’ I said. ‘Poos too, if you can manage it. But you must never, ever go to the toilet in the house, OK?’

  Alfie didn’t seem to be listening. He bounded over to the glass extension and peered at the pool. He barked hopefully.

  ‘No, this isn’t a pool for dogs. It’s for humans. And I don’t even know if you can swim or not. Maybe when Sean Godfrey’s not around I’ll let you try a little doggy paddle. I wonder if they do water wings for dogs,’ I said. ‘Come on, I’ll show you round the house now. But you’ve got to behave indoors, OK, Alfie? Promise?’

  I wiped all four of his paws with a tissue first, which was just as well. Alfie was very keen on the cream rugs. He thought they were specially put there for him to roll on. He liked the cream sofas even more, assuming they were dog loungers. He especially liked the beds upstairs, and threw himself on each one, play-fighting the duvet.

  I said, ‘No, Alfie,’ again and again and again, but he just grinned at me, saying, ‘Yes, Jess,’ again and again and again.

  I showed him the kitchen because I knew it wouldn’t have any rugs or sofas or beds. Sean Godfrey was sitting at his huge kitchen table, drinking a beer.

  ‘Hi there, Jess,’ he said. ‘Like a drink? A juice or something fizzy?’

  ‘No thank you,’ I said politely. ‘But could Alfie possibly have a bowl of water?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Sean Godfrey, and poured half a bottle of Evian water into a china soup bowl.

  ‘See how lucky you are, Alfie,’ I whispered. ‘Other dogs get ordinary tap water in any old chipped bowl.’

  Alfie was very appreciative, and slurped and slurped. I had to wait for him to finish. I didn’t know what else to say to Sean Godfrey and he didn’t seem to know what to say to me now, though he nodded his head in a friendly fashion whenever he caught my eye.

  My dad never knew what to say to me either. I kept re