My Mum Tracy Beaker Read online

  SEAN GODFREY THOUGHT that Mum would be thrilled to be reunited with Justine. He said so at breakfast the next day.

  ‘Er – no!’ she said.

  ‘But you seemed to be getting on so well last night,’ he said.

  ‘Sean, we really, really, really have nothing in common, apart from the fact that we once lived in the same children’s home.’ Mum rolled her eyes.

  ‘OK, no need to snap at me,’ he said. ‘I thought she was a nice girl, anyway – and it’s clear she wants to be friends with you, Trace.’

  ‘No, I think she maybe wants to be friends with you, Sean,’ said Mum.

  ‘Do you think she likes me then?’ he asked, preening.

  ‘Yep – clearly another paid-up member of the Sean Godfrey fan club.’

  Rosalie chuckled as she stirred the scrambled egg and cut strips of smoked salmon.

  ‘Are you ladies ganging up on me?’ Sean Godfrey asked, draining his murky green juice. He was on a health kick now. ‘Here, I wish you’d try this, Tracy, it’s absolutely brimming with vitamins. It would do you good too, Jess. Put some roses in your cheeks.’

  ‘It looks like witch’s wee-wee,’ I murmured.

  Mum laughed. ‘Yes, it does!’

  ‘You shouldn’t encourage her,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘She’s cheeky enough as it is. My mum would have knocked my block off if I’d come out with stuff like that. You button your lip, young Jess. And stop that wretched dog making such a stupid noise! He shouldn’t even be allowed in the kitchen.’

  Alfie was butting his head against Rosalie’s legs, whimpering hopefully. He’d discovered that smoked salmon was the most heavenly treat in the world.

  ‘Quit nagging her, Sean,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t see why Alfie can’t be in here with us. He’s part of the family.’

  Rosalie dished up our breakfasts – and gave Alfie a big strip of salmon when Sean Godfrey wasn’t looking.

  ‘What are your plans for today, babe?’ He ruffled Mum’s hair. ‘How about going to the hair salon, eh?’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Mum, jerking her head away. ‘What’s the matter with my hair anyway?’

  ‘Nothing! I love your curly mop. I just wondered if you might like it more …’ He gestured vaguely with his hand. ‘You know. Styled.’

  ‘I’m not that sort of woman,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t want to waste my day sitting in a hairdresser’s.’

  ‘It would give you something to do. I thought you said you were bored.’

  ‘I’m bored because I’m used to rushing around working. I’m going to have to get a job, Sean, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘You don’t need to do some crappy job,’ he said. ‘Especially not looking after someone else’s kids. Look, tell you what. Why don’t you work for yourself? Start up your own business like Justine. Yeah, that’s a great idea. She could give you some tips.’

  ‘I thought her business had gone bust,’ said Mum.

  ‘She’s got new ideas now, hasn’t she? Why don’t you have a think about it, Trace?’ said Sean Godfrey, getting up from the table and checking his watch.

  ‘OK, I’ll think about it. Do I want to start my own beauty product business? Now, let me see … It could be called Tracy – with a dinky little deadly-nightshade motif. Do I think it a good idea? Probably not.’

  ‘OK, OK, no need to take the mick. It doesn’t have to be a beauty product. What about some kind of sporty thing?’ Sean Godfrey peered at the green dregs in his glass. ‘A special health juice, say. I like that idea! Or ladies sportswear – little crop tops and leggings? I could sell them at the gym. Hey, I’m on a roll here!’

  ‘Well, try your ideas out on Justine then,’ said Mum.

  She was joking, but he took her seriously. ‘I might just do that!’ he said.

  Mum pushed her plate away and stood up. ‘You’d better not.’

  ‘Ooh-er!’ Sean Godfrey said, in a pantomime squeal. ‘Don’t say you’re just a teeny bit jealous of her.’ He was grinning, lapping it up.

  Mum walked over to him. She only comes up to his chest, but he took a step backwards.

  ‘You have anything more to do with Justine, and I walk,’ she said, in a calm but deadly voice. Then she swept out of the kitchen.

  There was a little silence.

  ‘She’s only joking,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  ‘I think she means it, Mr Sean,’ said Rosalie.

  ‘I know she means it,’ I said.

  ‘She knows which side her bread’s buttered,’ he muttered. ‘No one bosses me around and tells me what to do like that. Not even my Trace.’

  I glared at him. ‘She’s not yours!’ I shouted. ‘And she’s called Tracy, not Trace.’ I ran out of the room too, with Alfie following behind.

  Mum was putting on her jacket in the hall. ‘Come on, or you’ll be late for school,’ she said. She was trying to sound casual, but her voice was higher than usual and her face was very red.

  ‘Are you going to lose your temper, Mum?’ I asked tentatively.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘But you mean it about Justine Littlewood?’

  ‘Yep.’

  She didn’t say anything else all the way to school. She drew up near the gate, where parents aren’t supposed to park. Miss Oliver was walking across the playground. She looked up and saw us.

  I thought she’d come charging over and tell us off – but she just shook her head slightly, then waved and smiled.

  ‘Wave back, Mum!’ I said. ‘She’s not just my teacher now, she’s Cam’s friend.’

  ‘There’s no accounting for taste,’ Mum muttered, but she waved apologetically and mouthed ‘Sorry’ about parking in the wrong place. ‘Jump out quick, Jess.’

  ‘Are you going to be all right, Mum?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said.

  I wasn’t so sure, but the bell went and I had to go into school. I hoped Alfie would be as good as gold. It wasn’t a great time for him to chew a cushion or make a puddle on the rug.

  Tyrone got on my nerves all day. He was still going on about his Monday session at Sean Godfrey’s gym, and he was not just over the moon, he was somersaulting over the entire Milky Way. It was Sean Godfrey this, Sean Godfrey that, and at lunchtime he kept demonstrating for me all the things Sean Godfrey had showed him in his training session. By the end of the day he’d dropped the Godfrey part and was calling him my mate Sean.

  Mum was still in a weird mood when she came to pick me up.

  ‘Are you OK, Mum?’ I asked, giving Alfie a cuddle. He seemed a bit subdued too.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘So, what did you make of Justine, Jess?’

  ‘I hated her,’ I said.

  ‘That’s my girl.’ Mum was quiet for a bit and then said, ‘But she’s attractive, isn’t she? In an obvious kind of way.’

  I wrinkled my nose.

  ‘I was wondering – do you think I should start wearing high heels? They’re dead uncomfortable but they’d make me look taller.’

  ‘I think they look stupid,’ I said, though I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to wear them myself. I sometimes walked around the bedroom on tippy toes, pretending.

  ‘Yes, I suppose. But you know Carly’s always nagging at me to stop wearing jeans? Do you think she’s right? I suppose I always look a bit of a scruff.’

  ‘Mum! Have you gone nuts? Do you want to look like Granny Carly?’

  ‘No!’ said Mum. But she still wasn’t finished. She glanced at herself in the driving mirror and then tried tucking her hair behind her ears. It sprang out again immediately. ‘I can’t do anything with it,’ she groaned.

  ‘We like having curly hair,’ I said, although that was a total fib too.

  ‘I suppose I could get it straightened,’ said Mum.

  ‘But then you wouldn’t look like you.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘And you’re Tracy Beaker,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m the only Tracy Beaker in the world. And y