Little Darlings Read online

  The girls’ play drags on for so long that everyone gets fidgety, especially when half of them forget their words and keep nudging each other and whispering. Someone starts up the ‘Off, off, off!’ chant, and soon everyone’s shouting it. Two of the girls run off in tears, but two of them act it out to the bitter end. I think one of the girls is a Flatboy sister, but even so their scores are terrible because the play’s so boring.

  Then it’s Angel’s turn – and she’s certainly not boring. She’s wearing a skimpy top and very tight shiny white leggings and she struts onstage, grinning and wiggling her hips to this very sexy music. I see Mr Roberts tense, wringing his hands, clearly wondering what on earth Angel’s going to do next. She does a few simple cartwheels, arches her back and walks across the stage on her hands and feet, and then spins on her bottom for a bit. Angel has a very big bottom so this is easy-peasy for her. It’s not really a brilliant acrobatic routine at all, but when she finishes there’s a roar of applause.

  Angel is no one’s sister, but she hangs out with the Flatboys. She gets two tens from the boys and a nine from Blonde Wig – and even the little girl gives her an eight. Angel’s in the lead and she knows it. She punches the air and looks thrilled. When she swaggers offstage she gives me a little poke in the chest. She doesn’t say a word, but it’s obvious what she means: Beat that!

  Raymond comes after her, and he’s truly brilliant, leaping about all over the stage and twirling his arms and legs, but because he’s wearing leggings the boys yell stupid comments at him and he gets a rubbish score. It’s so unfair – Jeff and Ritchie come next with a silly comic ballet routine. They just lumber around and make silly gestures, but they’re given higher marks than poor Raymond.

  Everyone’s getting fed up now, chatting away, so Mr Roberts has to raise his voice and bellow to announce the Superspeedos. They all have a red Superman sign clumsily inked on their T-shirts, but thank goodness they don’t wear red underpants over their trousers. They still look a little silly, but their routine is quite clever, all of them managing backflips more or less simultaneously, and it’s clear they’ve rehearsed far more than Jack and his lads. They do a lot of leaping, swooping movements too, making out they’re flying, and then they end in a row with arms spread, grinning. I’d give them an eight or a nine – they’re definitely the best act yet apart from poor Raymond – but those hateful Flatboys give them one each. Blonde Wig wavers a little and gives them five, and the younger girl gives them a ten, but they’re not even in the top three and it’s so unfair. They all look gutted and I don’t blame them, but I haven’t got time to think about that now because Mr Roberts is announcing me.

  ‘Please put your hands together and welcome the last lovely contestant for Bilefield’s Got Talent, Miss Destiny Williams, who will delight us with her namesake song, Destiny, made famous by Mr Danny Kilman. I give you Destiny!’

  Oh God. I walk right out onstage, and there’s everyone staring back at me. Some of them clap half-heartedly, all of them staring at my black outfit. I get hot inside my beautiful leather jacket. I’m scared I’m sweating onto the sleeves. I see them all whispering and giggling. I do my best to blot them all out. I open my mouth and start singing.

  ‘You are my Destiny . . .’

  The words and the music take over. I’m just a voice, and it soars around the hall. I finish and there’s a pause, as if they’re all stunned. Then there’s clapping. Some kids are clapping loudly, even cheering – but some are silent, not knowing what to make of me. I’m the new girl. They aren’t sure if I’m in the Flatboy camp or the Speedos. And if I’m neither, how can they vote for me?

  The two Flatboys confer – and both give me two. Blonde Wig gives me three. The little girl looks bewildered and gives me nine, but of course it’s not enough to get me anywhere. I don’t even do as well as Fareed. I come second to bottom, just above the girls in the play.

  10

  SUNSET

  ‘Please may I open my presents?’ Sweetie begs.

  ‘Not yet, darling. You have to wait till your party, when the magazine people come,’ says Mum.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, let the kid open a few of her presents. What harm will it do?’ says Dad. He’s up very early, specially for Sweetie’s birthday.

  ‘Rose-May will kill us. She’s had all the presents professionally wrapped to go with the party theme.’

  ‘What is my party theme, Mum?’ Sweetie asks, jumping up and down, looking so cute in her white embroidered top and pink jeans.

  ‘Let’s just say it’s specially for you, darling,’ says Mum. ‘Now, we’re all going to be busy-busy-busy getting the big living room transformed – the party planners should be arriving any minute. I want you children right out of the way until well after lunch time. Danny, I don’t suppose you could take them out somewhere? Maybe Kingtown?’

  ‘Oh yes, that would be the best birthday treat ever!’ says Sweetie, bouncing on Dad’s lap.

  ‘I’d love that too, Sweet Pea, you know I would, it would be the greatest fun in the whole world, but I’ve got to nip up to London this morning—’

  ‘Oh, Danny, it’s Sweetie’s birthday!’ says Mum.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m not going to miss a moment of it, don’t you worry. But I need to see some of the lads – there’s talk about this benefit concert and they want me to take part.’

  ‘Which lads?’ Mum asks suspiciously.

  Dad taps his nose. ‘What’s it to you, hmm? You get on playing parties and I’ll get on with doing the work that pays all the bills, OK?’

  He slopes off, leaving Mum clenching her fists.

  ‘Right. Well, I can’t take you out, darlings – I have to sort out the party planners and rush to get my hair and nails done. So I’ll need my car, and it looks like Dad’s taking his – so maybe you can ask John to drive you and the children somewhere, Claudia?’

  It turns out that John’s already off running errands and won’t be back until after lunch.

  ‘This is just too bad,’ says Mum, sighing. ‘Well, you’ll just have to keep the children amused up in their rooms, Claudia.’

  ‘That’s not a very good birthday treat,’ says Sweetie, drooping.

  ‘Well, there’s nothing I can do about it, darling. I was relying on your daddy, but of course that was a big mistake,’ Mum starts. ‘He’s so selfish he doesn’t mind who he lets down – even you, Sweetie.’

  Sweetie puts her thumb in her mouth.

  ‘Don’t suck your thumb, you’ll ruin your teeth!’ Mum snaps.

  ‘I can still take the children out,’ Claudia says quickly. ‘We’ll take the bus to Kingtown.’

  ‘A bus!’ Sweetie cries, spitting out her thumb. ‘Oh, a bus!’ She twirls around as if Claudia has offered her a ride in a fairy-tale chariot.

  ‘A bus, a bus, a bus, we’re going on a bus!’ Ace screams, capering about.

  ‘Now don’t get the children too over-excited, for heaven’s sake,’ says Mum. ‘Just keep them quiet and calm, especially Sweetie. She’s going to need to be on tip-top form this afternoon. She’s got to cope with a really big photo shoot. There can’t be any tears or tantrums.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to make sure Sweetie enjoys her birthday,’ Claudia says coldly.

  ‘That wretched woman!’ she mutters to herself as we go out the gate, Claudia, Sweetie, Ace and me.

  ‘Mum gets awfully worked up before we have a magazine shoot,’ I say.

  ‘Why does she think it’s a good idea to turn her own daughter’s birthday into a commercial bear-garden?’ says Claudia.

  ‘Bear-garden!’ Ace repeats. ‘Where are the bears in the garden? I’m Tigerman and I want to play with the bears, but they might have big claws.’

  ‘You roar at them and they’ll run away,’ I say.

  Ace roars at every hedge and tree and picket fence along the road. Sweetie skips along beside him, pointing her toes.

  ‘It’s ridiculous,’ Claudia grumbles to me. ‘Imagine making the poor little mi