Queenie Read online

  It was a completely strange woman with her hair in a turban, though she was wearing a pinny just like Nan’s. The policeman stood behind her, his face very pink and shiny, like blancmange.

  ‘Oh dear, are you little Elsie, Vi’s grand-daughter?’ asked the woman.

  I nodded.

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ said the policeman. ‘Is your mummy here, dear?’

  ‘No, she’s away. I live with my nan,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, well, that’s why we’re here, Elsie,’ said the policeman. He fiddled with the strap of his helmet, wobbling his chin. He looked at the woman for help.

  ‘Your nan’s been taken poorly, dearie,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ I said. They stared at me in surprise.

  ‘She didn’t feel well last night. She shouldn’t have gone to work. I said so,’ I muttered.

  ‘Well, she keeled over at work – she gave us all such a shock. There was all this blood—’

  I gasped.

  ‘But she’s probably going to be all right, dear,’ the policeman said quickly. ‘They called an ambulance and they’ve taken her off to hospital.’

  ‘Did she cut herself?’ I whispered.

  ‘No, she just coughed it up all over everywhere – it gave us such a fright. It was dripping all down her,’ said the friend.

  I rocked on my heels, horrified.

  ‘We don’t need all the details,’ said the policeman, frowning. ‘Anyway, your nan’s quite poorly, Elsie, and I expect she’ll be in hospital a while.’

  ‘Nan hates hospitals,’ I whispered.

  ‘Yes, well, she’s got no choice now,’ Nan’s friend said. ‘That’s when I thought of you, dear. I knew she looked after you. Always goes on about you, she does. She loves you to bits, your nanny. And I suddenly thought, who’s going to look after you?’

  I stared at her, shivering. ‘I want Nan!’ I whispered. I dodged round them and reached for my jacket.

  ‘What are you doing, little ’un?’ asked the policeman.

  ‘I’m going to the hospital,’ I said. ‘I need to see Nan.’

  ‘No no, dear, you can’t go and see her, not just yet. She’s too poorly. She needs to rest,’ he told me.

  ‘She needs me,’ I said. ‘I look after her when she’s poorly.’

  ‘Aaaah!’ said Nan’s friend. She nodded at the policeman. ‘Isn’t she a little love? Ever so old-fashioned!’

  ‘Can she maybe stay with you then, just till we find out how her nan’s doing?’ said the policeman.

  ‘What? Oh no, all my kiddies are long since grown up. I wouldn’t know what to do with her,’ said the friend, looking appalled.

  ‘Just for a couple of days, maybe, until we can get something sorted?’ said the policeman.

  ‘I haven’t got anywhere to put her. No, sorry, I’m afraid it’s out of the question,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’ve got to get back home now. My hubby’s got a bad back. I need to fetch and carry for him.’

  The policeman looked at me in alarm. ‘Well, what are we going to do with her then?’ He lowered his voice and tutted. ‘You say there’s no dad, and Mum’s not part of the picture . . .?’

  ‘Yes she is!’ I said. ‘I’ve got a mum, a lovely mum.’ I didn’t like Nan’s friend any more.

  ‘Where is she then?’ asked the policeman.

  ‘Vi says she comes and goes,’ said the friend. ‘It’s more going than coming, if you ask me.’

  ‘Nobody is asking you,’ I said, which made her suck her teeth. ‘My mum’s very busy. She’s a showgirl on the stage.’

  ‘There!’ said the friend, clearly disliking me back. ‘No better than she ought to be!’ she hissed.

  ‘I’d better go and phone,’ said the policeman. ‘How can we get in touch with Mummy?’ he asked me.

  ‘I have her phone number,’ I said, running to get Nan’s little notebook. ‘But you can’t call her just yet. She’ll still be asleep. She never gets up early.’

  ‘Well, she’ll just have to stir herself,’ said the policeman. ‘Is that her number, dear?’ he asked me when I came back.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I said, but he wouldn’t let me.

  He turned to Nan’s friend. ‘Keep an eye on the kiddie while I go and give her mum a bell.’

  ‘Look, I’m not a babysitter,’ she said, but she sat down on Nan’s chair, sighing, as the policeman went back out of the front door.

  I waited, gnawing my thumb tip, while he went to phone Mum. I so hoped she wouldn’t be too cross when she answered.

  I stood staring at Nan’s friend. She fidgeted uncomfortably, digging her elbows into Nan’s special velvet cushion.

  ‘That’s my nan’s chair,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, well, she’s not here to sit in it, is she?’

  I started crying.

  ‘Oh don’t. I’m sorry, lovey. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sure your nan will get better, pet. She gave us all such a nasty shock, keeling over like that, and then bringing up all that blood. I thought she was . . .Well, never mind. Don’t look so worried. There’s worse things happen at sea. I’m sure the doctors will make your nanny better.’

  I nibbled harder, biting at a hangnail.

  ‘Don’t do that now, you’re hurting yourself.’

  I sat down at the table, fingering the green chenille cloth instead. Nan’s friend started making laborious conversation, asking me about school and which lessons I liked the most. I mumbled brief answers, barely listening. I kept thinking about Nan, picturing her lying on the floor in her pinny. She sometimes went out with her hair curlers still in place, hidden by a turban. She’d hate everyone seeing her with her curlers in, especially at the hospital.

  She’d be calling for me now, I just knew she would.

  I’m coming, Nan, I whispered inside my head. I’m coming as soon as I can, and I’ll comb your hair out for you and make you look pretty. You’ll get better soon. You’re going to be as right as rain, like you said.

  ‘Nice little flat you’ve got here,’ said the friend. ‘Cosy.’ She looked around at the twin china crinoline ladies curtseying on the mantelpiece and the baby photos of Mum and me in matching silver frames. Mum was smiling, all over curls and dimples. I didn’t have much hair at all, and I was scowling. ‘Sweet,’ she commented.

  I scowled in real life.

  ‘Ooh, there’s a face! Watch the wind don’t change, you’ll be stuck like it,’ she said.

  I turned my back on her. We waited and waited.

  ‘He’s a long time, that bobby. Maybe he can’t get hold of your mum. You sure you gave him the right telephone number?’ she said.

  I nodded. I was feeling sick with worry though. Mum’s phone number kept changing. I thought I’d got the right one, but perhaps she’d moved on. She lived in so many digs while she was touring. Or she might be living with an uncle. I wasn’t sure she had one at the moment, but you could never tell with Mum.

  What if he really couldn’t get hold of her? What would happen to me?

  Sour water spurted into my mouth. I had to make a run for it.

  ‘Hold on – where are you going?’ Nan’s friend asked.

  ‘The lav,’ I said tersely.

  I only just got there in time. I threw up down the pan and then stood there trembling, blinking away the tears. I blew my nose on the toilet paper and took a gulp of water from the cold tap. I didn’t want to go back and face the friend, so I sat on the edge of the bath, snivelling into a flannel.

  After a little while there was a knock on the door. ‘Elsie? Are you all right?’ she called.

  I didn’t bother answering. Of course I wasn’t all right! Nan was in hospital and I wasn’t sure about Mum and I knew all too well what might happen to me. It had happened once before, long ago. I couldn’t really remember it properly. It was when I was really little and living with Mum. I think she went out and left me and some landlady heard me crying. I ended up in a big Home that wasn’t a bit like a home at all, with a lot of other children, a