Lola Rose Read online



  ‘Can I speak to Victoria Luck, please?’ I said. I spoke so deep down in my chest that I had to repeat myself twice before she understood.

  ‘Which ward is she on?’

  ‘I – I don’t know which ward.’ I didn’t want to say the word but I didn’t have any choice. ‘It’s the cancer ward.’

  ‘It’ll probably be Florence. I’ll put you through.’

  I breathed out, my hand over my pounding heart. After a long time someone answered on Florence Ward.

  ‘Can I speak to Victoria Luck?’ I asked, my throat hurting.

  ‘Who’s speaking, please?’

  I didn’t know what to say. Her mother? Her sister? ‘Her friend.’

  It was the wrong decision.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, I’m afraid it’s not possible.’

  ‘But I’m grown up, honestly.’

  ‘I’m afraid we don’t use the ward phones for friends.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell me if she’s all right? Please!’

  ‘I suggest you contact Mrs Luck’s husband and ask him,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you can suggest all you like, Miss Snotnose Meaniepants, but Dad doesn’t know and I wouldn’t ring him even if he did,’ I shouted and then switched the mobile off.

  Kendall blinked at me. I wondered if I could coach him till he sounded like Dad. I knew it was hopeless.

  I tried to think of all the possibilities. I could go upstairs and ask Andy to ring for me. Though Andy and Steve weren’t speaking to us. And if they knew Kendall and I were on our own they’d maybe tell someone.

  I could try to find Jake. But I didn’t know where he was living now.

  I could go along the road and ask Harpreet’s dad to ring for me. He’d help. But Harpreet’s mum would definitely report us.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I wailed. I slumped on the floor, my head on my knees. I could feel my blood beating, even ticking in my eyelids, Mum-Mum-Mum-Mum-Mum.

  ‘Are you crying?’ Kendall whispered.

  I didn’t answer. I kept my face hidden. I could hear Kendall breathing noisily above me. He nudged me with his shoe.

  ‘Lola Rose?’

  I didn’t feel like Lola Rose. I didn’t even feel like Jayni. I was withering away into no one.

  I wanted Mum so badly. I had to bite my lips to stop myself calling for her. What if she wasn’t all right? What if the operation had gone wrong? What if she’d died?

  ‘You are crying,’ said Kendall.

  ‘I’m not. I just need to know if Mum’s all right.’

  ‘Let’s go and find her then,’ said Kendall.

  I thought about it. Mum had said we mustn’t. But we had to know. We couldn’t just wait day after day.

  ‘OK. We’ll go to the hospital,’ I said. ‘We’ll find Mum and see how she is.’

  I wiped my eyes, stuffed Kendall into his jacket, tucked George under his arm, and then we set off. I didn’t have enough money for a minicab so we went to the bus stop.

  I asked the driver how to get to the hospital. He said he didn’t have a clue, it wasn’t on his route. But an old woman witting at the front said she’d been sent to the eye clinic there, and we needed to get out at the flyover and change to a number 88. She made me sit down beside her and pulled Kendall right onto her lap. He fidgeted tensely. She clasped him tightly round the tummy. He can’t stand his tummy being touched. I hoped he wasn’t going to make a fuss.

  She was trying to be kind but she kept asking nosy questions. I made up this whole story about visiting our sick granny, our mum meeting us at the hospital. Kendall frowned.

  ‘Keep still, Mr Fidget-bottom,’ said the old lady.

  Kendall slumped sideways, whispering to George.

  The bus ride lasted for ever but we got to the flyover at last. The old lady waved to both of us. I waved back, trying to look grateful, but Kendall ducked his head.

  ‘I didn’t like her,’ he said. ‘I could feel her knicker elastic through her skirt. Yuck!’ He shuddered. ‘She’s not our gran, is she?’

  ‘Of course not. We haven’t got a gran.’

  ‘But you said we had.’ Kendall sighed. ‘You keep telling stories. I can’t remember who we’ve got and who we haven’t.’

  ‘We haven’t got anyone except you and me and Mum. And we’re going to see Mum now. It will be a lovely surprise for her.’

  ‘Is that true or is that another story?’

  ‘It’s true as true as true,’ I said over and over.

  I chanted it on the 88 bus all the way to the hospital. It was a huge place. It took us ages even to find our way across the car park. A man at the entrance told us we couldn’t come in without an adult. I said quick as a wink we were with our dad but he was still trying to find somewhere to park. He’d sent us ahead to buy our mum some flowers from the gift shop. The man nodded and let us in, but he watched as we squeaked along the polished floor in our trainers.

  ‘We’ll really buy Mum some flowers,’ I said.

  ‘How did you know to come out with all that stuff?’ Kendall hissed.

  ‘I’m just inventive, I suppose.’

  My inventions meant we spent nearly all our money on a bunch of flowers that already looked a bit droopy. I told Kendall it was the thought that counted.

  We got in a lift, having to squash up against the wall because a lady in a bed on wheels was already inside. She looked very ill. Every time the lift jerked she groaned. Kendall slipped his hand into mine. The nurse pushing the bed gave us a smile.

  ‘Where are you off to, kids?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re going to see our mum.’

  ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘He’s up there already,’ I said.

  I seemed to be inventing multiple dads – in the car park, in the ward. I had it all worked out in my head that Dad could also be in the gents toilet or feeding our baby sister or held up talking to a neighbour on another ward.

  I was all set to lie until my tongue turned black but I didn’t have to say a thing when we got to Florence Ward. There were two nurses sharing a bunch of grapes in a little side room but they didn’t spot us.

  We hurried past bed after bed, looking for Mum. Some of the women were lying down looking grey like the lady in the lift. Some were sitting chatting to their visitors, eating chocolates and opening cards. Some were shuffling up and down the ward in their dressing gowns, attached to weird pull-along drips.

  ‘What are those bag things for?’ Kendall asked.

  ‘It’s to make them better.’

  ‘Mum won’t have one, will she?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Where is Mum?’

  ‘She’ll be just up here,’ I said hoarsely.

  The Voice of Doom was shouting in my head. I saw an empty bed stripped of its covers. I stopped still, staring at it.

  ‘Ouch, your nails are digging in,’ Kendall said.

  Then he pulled away from me. ‘Mum!’ He went charging down to the end of the ward.

  I blundered after him, looking around wildly. Then I saw her too, her blonde hair fanned out on her pillow. She had her head turned to the wall so we couldn’t see her face. The bedclothes were right up over her shoulders. She was lying very still.

  ‘Mum?’ said Kendall.

  ‘She’s asleep,’ I said. I put my hand on Mum’s shoulder and shook her gently. ‘Mum?’

  She mumbled something and tried to pull the covers up over her head.

  ‘Mum! It’s us, Lola Rose and Kendall.’

  Mum opened her eyes. She looked at us blearily. I wondered if she’d forgotten our new names. I bent right up close so that my lips were against her ear.

  ‘It’s Jayni and Kenny, Mum,’ I whispered.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. She didn’t sound particularly pleased to see us.

  ‘How are you, Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘Bloody terrible,’ she said.

  She sounded as if she had the worst hangover in the world – but she still sounded like herse