Candyfloss Read online

  I brushed my hair and I brushed my teeth and I brushed my shoes. I did this varied brushing ultra thoroughly, and at each stroke of the brush I made a wish that our luck would change and that somehow or other Dad could stay cooking his chip butties for ever.

  Billy the Chip came in to mind the café while Dad was taking me to Rhiannon’s. He was clutching his Racing Post.

  ‘Come on, young Flossie, pick me a winner,’ he said.

  ‘Oh Mr Chip, I’m rubbish at picking winners. Birthday Girl was hopeless, and Iced Bun was worse.’

  ‘Have another go, darling.’

  ‘What, you think it’ll be third time lucky?’ I said.

  ‘Yes!’ said Billy the Chip. ‘Look! Third Time Lucky is running at Doncaster! We’ve got to back it now. What about you, Charlie? Shall I put something on for you?’

  ‘I haven’t got anything left to bet with, mate. I think it might be a bit of a waste anyway. Look at the odds. It hasn’t got a chance.’

  12

  RHIANNON WAS ESPECIALLY sweet to me. She was almost like the old Rhiannon, before she started thinking Margot wonderful. And I felt almost like the old Floss, when I still had two homes and I could see Mum whenever I wanted.

  We went to play in Rhiannon’s beautiful blue bedroom, and it was so peaceful lying back on her soft flowery duvet and seeing the clean white paint and fresh blue ruffles. It felt as if we were floating up into the sky. Rhiannon let me shake all her snowdomes and wind up her Cinderella musical box and flick from channel to channel on her own little white television.

  She let me try on all her coolest clothes. She even let me try walking in her brand-new boots with pointy toes and real heels. She didn’t want to try on my jeans and T-shirt, so I let her wear my birthday-present rose-quartz bracelet. It looked very pretty on her slim white wrist. I asked her where her friendship bracelet was.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Think I must have lost it.’

  ‘Oh. Well. Never mind,’ I said. ‘I’ll make you another if you like. Tell you what, we could use that kit I gave you and make each other a friendship bracelet now.’

  Rhiannon wrinkled her forehead. ‘Like, boring!’ she said. ‘No, we’re going shopping – I said. Mum’s taking us to Green Glades.’

  Rhiannon’s mum drove us there in her big Range Rover. Rhiannon and I knelt up at the back and made faces at people in the cars behind.

  ‘I bet you wish you had a big car like our Range Rover,’ said Rhiannon.

  ‘It’s lovely – but actually my dad’s van is just as big,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, but, like, that’s just a transit van,’ said Rhiannon.

  They obviously didn’t compare so I kept my mouth shut. I was starting to feel a bit sick. I hadn’t realized Green Glades was so far away. I wriggled round in my seat and stared straight ahead. My jeans were starting to be a bit too small for me. They pressed uncomfortably into my tummy. I closed my eyes, praying that I wasn’t going to disgrace myself.

  ‘Hey, don’t go to sleep on me, Floss!’ said Rhiannon.

  ‘No, no, leave her be, darling,’ said Rhiannon’s mother. ‘She looks as if she could do with a good sleep. She’s looking so peaky, poor lamb. I know her dad is doing his best but I bet he doesn’t get her to bed on time.’

  I wanted to argue, but I knew if I sat up and opened my mouth I would actually start spouting vomit. I stayed still as a statue, eyes shut, tummy clenched, sweat trickling down inside my T-shirt with the effort of keeping my breakfast in place.

  Seemingly many many years later we got to Green Glades and parked the car. I rushed to the nearest ladies, and when the cubicle door shut me away from Rhiannon and her mum I threw up as silently as possible.

  ‘Oh darling, you do look weak and feeble,’ Rhiannon’s mother cooed, when I staggered out. ‘You haven’t been sick, have you?’

  ‘No!’ I said emphatically, because she’d only start on about my dad’s chip butties. I suddenly soooo wanted my mum, who would know exactly how to deal with Rhiannon’s mother. I hated being the poor sad sickly girl, especially when I was feeling so poor and sad and sickly.

  I wanted to talk to her on the phone. Dad was going to phone her tonight to tell her that he thought I should go to Australia. My stomach started churning again. I wanted Mum but I wanted Dad too. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him. He’d said the heavies would move in. I didn’t really know what a heavy was. I pictured an army of huge red-faced prickly-headed guys, all of them punching my poor dad and then kicking him out of our café with their big heavy boots as if he was a bag of rubbish. I saw him sitting in the gutter, crawling inside his cardboard box.

  I had to run right back to the ladies’ loo and throw up all over again. I didn’t even have anything to be sick with any more; it was just horrible bile stuff. I couldn’t fool Rhiannon and her mother this time. I suffered a lecture about suitable diet for the next half-hour, though I told them truthfully I’d simply had a small bowl of cornflakes for my breakfast.

  ‘Margot has the most amazing mango and pineapple smoothies for her breakfast. We made them ourselves. It was so cool,’ said Rhiannon.

  ‘When were you having breakfast with Margot?’ I said.

  ‘When she had this sleepover,’ Rhiannon said airily.

  I was stunned. I had been so scared of upsetting Rhiannon by having Susan over for tea, and yet here she was casually telling me that she had actually stayed the night at Margot’s.

  ‘What?’ said Rhiannon, seeing my expression. ‘Oh Floss, lighten up. It’s OK. You don’t have to be, like, jealous.’ She actually laughed at me.

  ‘I’m not jealous,’ I mumbled foolishly.

  ‘Don’t worry, dear. You’re still Rhiannon’s special friend,’ said Rhiannon’s mum.

  She didn’t say ‘best’ friend. ‘Special’ made me sound embarrassing and needy, the poor little saddo you had to be nice to because you felt so sorry for her.

  I felt my cheeks burning. I didn’t want Rhiannon as my friend any more, best or special. I wished wished wished I’d made real friends with Susan.

  I was stuck with Rhiannon and her mother. We went up and down every single arcade and walkway of the Green Glades shopping centre. I’d have liked it if I was there with my mum. We’d look at things together and try on different stuff and strike mad poses like fashion models and tell each other we looked drop-dead gorgeous.

  Rhiannon and her mother took their shopping seriously. They tried on outfit after outfit, reciting the designer labels as if they were magic charms.

  ‘You must try on anything you fancy too, Floss,’ said Rhiannon’s mum. ‘I’m determined to treat you, darling. We can’t have you wandering about like a sad little scarecrow.’

  She bought me new white socks. She wanted to buy me new shoes too, but I said that my trainers had been a special birthday present from my mum and I wanted to wear them all the time.

  ‘They’re starting to look a bit shabby already, dear,’ said Rhiannon’s mum, but she didn’t press it.

  She did press me to choose some new clothes. She didn’t say anything disparaging about my jeans and T-shirt, but she shook her head and sighed, so it was plain what she thought of them.

  I didn’t want her to buy me anything. I didn’t even want the socks, though I needed them badly. But there was no way I could keep saying no without seeming rude and ungrateful. I tried picking out the cheapest top and jeans I could find on the bargain rails so that they would cost as little as possible, but this didn’t please Rhiannon or her mother.

  ‘Oh God, Floss, you can’t possibly like that tacky old T-shirt. It looks like something off a market stall,’ said Rhiannon. ‘And those jeans! I wouldn’t be seen dead in them. Look at the cut of the leg. They are, like, so old-fashioned.’

  ‘You’re not really into fashion, are you, dear?’ said Rhiannon’s mother. ‘Don’t worry, Rhiannon’s always been a bit forward – she could suss out a designer label when she was still in her buggy. We’ll help