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  Dancer changed her tactics. ‘It’s the same ring Dad gave you, so it’s the most special ring in the world whether it’s a real emerald or not. And I say it is real. As real as you and me.’

  I hugged her and looked at the ring again. Its glow was back, glittering green.

  I got back to Gran and Vita and Maxie just as Gran was looking at her watch and frowning.

  ‘You’re two minutes late,’ she said. ‘Come on, now, Maxie’s desperate for a wee and we’ll have to take him to the ladies with us.’

  ‘You ran off with my Dancer,’ said Vita, frowning. ‘But I still saved you half my cake.’

  She’d licked all the icing off, but it was still sweet of her.

  ‘Did you really go to the Bear Factory?’ said Vita, while Gran was mopping up Maxie and his damp dungarees. ‘I peered over the balcony railings and I thought I saw you on the escalator.’

  ‘It must have been somebody else,’ I said – like there were lots of big fat girls in too-tight jeans and a fairy T-shirt with a reindeer glove puppet on their right hand.

  I didn’t want to tell Vita about the jewellery shop. It was too awful and embarrassing. There was no point anyway. I couldn’t take us on holiday after all.

  But Gran could. The day we all broke up from school Gran made us wait for tea till Mum came home. Then she sent out for a giant pizza, opened a bottle of wine for her and Mum, with Coke for us kids.

  ‘What are we celebrating?’ said Mum.

  ‘The start of the summer holidays,’ I said.

  ‘I wish we were going on holiday,’ said Vita.

  ‘Let’s go to the seaside. The seaside with the helter-skelter,’ said Maxie.

  ‘Ssh, Maxie, Vita. We can’t go away on holiday, you know we can’t,’ I said.

  ‘Yes we can!’ said Gran. She opened up her handbag and produced a little folder of tickets. ‘It’s all booked up. We’re going to Spain for a week, all five of us, staying in a great big hotel by the sea.’

  ‘With a helter-skelter?’ Maxie persisted.

  Vita whooped with excitement. I whooped too, but I felt wrong-footed.

  ‘But Mum, how on earth have you managed it?’ said our mum, looking dazed.

  ‘Never you mind. I just felt we all badly needed a holiday,’ said Gran. ‘Now simmer down, kids.’

  We couldn’t simmer. We were boiling over with excitement. Vita started dancing round the room, showing us her version of Spanish dancing. Dancer demonstrated too, doing a mid-air flamenco. I stamped my foot in time. Maxie gave up on the helter-skelter and jumped wildly up and down.

  ‘For pity’s sake, mind my—’ said Gran. Then she stopped in mid sentence.

  I looked over at the china cabinet. There was something the matter. The little pink crinoline lady was spreading her skirt in solitary splendour on the top shelf. Where was the balloon seller and the little mermaid and the children in their white china nightgowns?

  ‘Gran, your china!’ I gasped.

  ‘Has someone stolen it?’ said Vita.

  ‘Stolen!’ said Maxie fearfully.

  ‘Don’t be so silly,’ Gran snapped. ‘I decided to weed out a few pieces. They were just gathering dust, no use to anyone.’

  ‘Oh, Mum, you loved your china collection!’ said our mum. ‘You sold it to pay for our holiday. It’s so sweet of you.’

  Mum gave Gran a big hug. I couldn’t help feeling jealous. I’d so wanted to take everyone on holiday by pawning my emerald ring.

  ‘Did you pawn your china, Gran?’ I asked.

  ‘Did I what?’ said Gran. ‘No, of course not, I sold it in the antique centre. Honestly, Em, where do you get all these silly ideas from?’

  ‘They’re not silly! If you pawn things you can get them back again when you’ve got enough money,’ I said. ‘Why do you always have to say I’m silly?’

  ‘Hey, hey, that’s enough, Em. Don’t cheek your gran, especially when she’s done such a lovely thing for us,’ said Mum sharply.

  I started to get seriously fed up with this holiday as the weeks went by. I had to act eternally grateful to Gran. She traded on it too. Every time I moaned when she told me to wash up or I argued over what I wanted to watch on the television or I locked myself into the bathroom to write my Dancer story, Gran would threaten me.

  ‘You’ll do those dishes because I say so. Vita’s too young, she’d only break them. Now make yourself useful or you won’t go on holiday!’

  ‘We’re not watching The Bill, it’s not suitable. Just because your dad was in it once doesn’t make it compulsory viewing for the rest of us. Now take that sulky look off your face or you won’t go on holiday.’

  ‘What on earth are you up to in there, Emily? For pity’s sake, come out of the bathroom at once! You watch it, young lady, or you won’t go on holiday.’

  I decided I didn’t want to go on holiday. I’d stay at home by myself and eat chocolate bars all day long and watch whatever I wanted on the telly and read all my Jenna Williams books and write my Dancer story in perfect peace.

  11

  I DIDN’T STAY at home. I went on holiday with Mum and Gran and Vita and Maxie. I actually had a fabulous time! The hotel was a big white tower overlooking the sea. Our two rooms were right at the very top, which was a bit of a problem. Maxie kicked and screamed at the very idea of going in the glass lift.

  Gran got cross and tried giving him a good talking to. Maxie got crosser still and screamed back. Mum tried bribing him with sweets. Maxie swallowed them quickly but still refused to step into the lift.

  ‘So what are we going to do? March up twelve flipping flights of stairs?’ Gran said.

  ‘I’ll walk up the stairs with him,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t be so silly, Em. You couldn’t get up one flight without huffing and puffing,’ said Gran.

  ‘I’m not being silly,’ I said, through gritted teeth. ‘Come on, Maxie, I’ll take you. We’ll race up those stairs, won’t we?’

  We raced up the first flight of stairs. Then we slowed down a little. My heart was thumping a bit but I wasn’t huffing and puffing. We went up the second flight and the third. Maxie hung on my hand, dragging his feet.

  ‘Come on, Maxie, keep going,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t want to. I’m tired,’ Maxie said, flopping down on the stairs.

  ‘Do you want to try the lift again?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Then it’s stairs or nothing.’ I bent over him, feeling the sharp little bones sticking out at the back of his T-shirt. ‘Are these wings? Yes, they are! They’ll help you fly up. Come on, Maxie, we’ll fly like Peter Pan. Wheeee! Wheeee!’

  We ‘flew’ for another couple of flights. Then we both had to have a little sit down. Maxie put his head on his knees.

  ‘It’s too high up,’ he moaned.

  ‘Yes, it is, ever so high. Let’s pretend it’s a mountain and we’re climbing way way up to the very top. When we get there we’ll plant a flag on the summit and get filmed for television.’

  ‘Like the special videos?’ said Maxie.

  We had three special videos of Dad. One was his proper speaking part in The Bill. The second was an EastEnders market crowd scene where Dad gets to smile and wave though he doesn’t actually say anything, The third was an advert for a mobile phone. That always made me cry because I kept remembering Dad in the kitchen at Christmas. I still watched it though. When Dad first left at Christmas I watched the videos over and over, every single day. I still watched them at least once a week. So did Mum and Vita. Maxie never seemed to be watching, but he was often in the room.

  I put my arms round him. ‘I was just pretending, Maxie,’ I said. ‘We’re not really going to be filmed. Gran’s brought her camera though, so we’ll have photos of us on holiday. We’ll take a photo of you looking all cute in your new shorts and your big boy’s baseball cap, yeah?’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Maxie, his chin still on his knees.

  ‘Are you thinking about Dad, Maxie?’ I whispered.

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