The Illustrated Mum Read online

  ‘What’s the big hurry?’ said Star.

  I stopped eating my own slice of cake.

  ‘I’m going to try to catch Steve early, before any clients. I’ve just designed the most amazing symbolic tattoo,’ said Marigold.

  ‘No,’ said Star. ‘Not another. You promised.’

  ‘But this is so beautiful, darling. A cross because I’m at the crossroads. Look!’ Marigold waved her design.

  ‘You’ve spoilt Dol’s birthday card,’ said Star.

  ‘No she hasn’t,’ I said quickly.

  ‘You said it was sick and pathetic getting yourself tattooed again and again. You said you’d save up for laser treatment to get them removed. You said,’ Star said, her voice rising.

  ‘I said a whole load of stuff just to keep you happy, darling. But I love all my tattoos. They’re all so special to me. They make me feel special.’

  ‘They make you look like a circus freak,’ said Star.

  There was a sudden silence. We stood looking at each other in shock and embarrassment, hardly able to believe what Star had just said. Even Star seemed astonished.

  ‘OK, so I’m a freak,’ said Marigold shakily. ‘I don’t care. I don’t have to conform to your narrow view of society, Star. I’ve always lived my life on the outside edge.’

  ‘Now you’re sounding like some corny old film. Why can’t you act normal?’

  ‘I don’t want to be normal,’ said Marigold. ‘I can’t figure out why you do all of a sudden. What’s the matter with you, Star?’

  ‘Maybe I’m growing up. When are you going to grow up, Marigold?’ She seized her slice of cake and crumpled it into tiny crumbs. Then she brushed her hands and ran into our bedroom.

  Marigold and I looked at each other. Marigold tried to look like she didn’t care. She put her hand to her head as if she was trying to hold it together.

  ‘What should I do?’ she whispered to me.

  ‘Star didn’t really mean it,’ I said. ‘She was just upset because she thought you didn’t like the cake.’

  ‘I know she’s got this thing about tattoos – but I want the cross, Dol.’

  I shrugged helplessly. Star was always the one who told Marigold what to do. I wasn’t any good at it.

  ‘It will look incredible, I just know it,’ said Marigold. ‘I have to go now or Steve won’t have time. Will you come too?’

  I hesitated. I wasn’t like Star, who had refused to set foot in the Rainbow Tattoo Studio. I found it fascinating, though I was sometimes a bit scared of some of the customers. Steve himself was kind of scary too, with his shiny bald head and his long beard and his pointed tongue with a stud through the end. I hated seeing it flash silver in his mouth. He knew this and stuck his tongue out at me whenever he saw me.

  ‘Please,’ Marigold pressed. ‘I’ll need you. It’ll hurt.’

  ‘You said it doesn’t hurt much at all.’

  ‘It will hurt on the elbow. It’s always painful on a joint.’

  ‘Then why . . . ?’

  ‘It’ll be more special if I have to suffer for it,’ said Marigold.

  ‘That’s silly,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll need you there so I can hold your hand to be brave,’ said Marigold. ‘If you don’t come I might go really mad and get Steve to do the cross on my face. Up the forehead, down the nose, across both cheeks.’ She shook her head at me. ‘Oh Dol, I’m joking.’

  I wasn’t sure. When Marigold was in this sort of mood she could do the craziest thing on a sudden whim. Maybe she really did need me to go with her. I was worried but I also felt very grown-up and special. It was me she needed, not Star.

  I still felt bad about Star though.

  ‘Come on, Dol,’ said Marigold, desperate to be off.

  ‘Wait a second,’ I said, and went to our bedroom.

  I hesitated and then knocked on the door in case Star was crying and didn’t want me to see. She didn’t answer. I timidly peeked round the door. She was sitting on the end of the bed, her fists clenched in her lap. Her face was hidden by her long hair.

  ‘Star? Star, she wants me to go with her.’

  Star shrugged as if it was nothing to do with her.

  ‘Maybe Steve will have an early customer,’ I said. ‘Then he won’t be able to do it. Or maybe she’ll change her mind again. You know what she’s like.’

  ‘I know what she’s like,’ Star said slowly. Her teeth were clenched too.

  ‘Star?’

  ‘Stop bleating my name like that, it’s so irritating.’

  ‘Do you mind if I go with her? I’d better, hadn’t I?’

  ‘You do what you want.’

  ‘Can’t you come too?’

  Star looked at me witheringly. ‘I’m not going near that stupid place.’

  I waited, trying to think of some way to make everything better.

  ‘It’s a great birthday cake, Star.’

  I wasn’t getting anywhere. I suddenly heard the front door bang. I had to leave Star. I ran hard after Marigold. She was halfway down the stairs.

  ‘Wait for me!’

  ‘I thought you maybe weren’t coming,’ said Marigold. She laughed. ‘But you are, you are, you are!’ She caught hold of me on the first-floor landing and swung me round.

  ‘What a racket!’ Mrs Luft was down at the front door sorting through the post. She seemed to be addressing an invisible audience. ‘Do they have to be so noisy on the stairs? Up and down, late at night, first thing in the morning. Some people have no consideration.’

  ‘Any post for me?’ Marigold asked. She always got extra hopeful on her birthdays and Christmas, just in case Micky decided to get in touch. Ever since we’d been given the Housing Trust flat she’d renewed the postal forwarding service every three months. It was the one thing she never forgot.

  ‘Electricity bill,’ said Mrs Luft, handing it over.

  ‘Well, I don’t think I’ll bother with that,’ said Marigold, tossing the unopened bill onto the old table in the hallway.

  I looked at it anxiously. Mrs Luft sniffed.

  ‘That’s a very responsible attitude, I must say,’ she announced. ‘Some people take a pride in paying their bills on time. Others are downright feckless. Spend, spend spend – and lets the state fork out for her and her children.’

  Marigold told Mrs Luft to go away and mind her own business. She didn’t say it politely. She used short sharp words.

  ‘Yes, that’s just the sort of language I’d expect from her,’ said Mrs Luft. She shuffled into her flat, her backless slippers slapping the floor at each step.

  ‘Mad old bat,’ said Marigold, taking my hand. ‘Come on, let’s see if we can run all the way.’

  She was faster than me at running even though she was wearing high heels. I hung back and had to stop and gasp for breath at every new street, a stitch in my side. It was still hurting when we got to the Rainbow Tattoo Studio. The closed sign was on the door but when Marigold tapped the opaque glass with her long fingertips Steve came to the door.

  ‘Oh oh,’ he said, giving her one glance. ‘I’m not starting any long customized job now, Goldie. I’ve got a guy coming in at ten.’

  ‘Oh, Steve, be a honey. Which guy? If he’s a biker he won’t make it in till eleven at the earliest. And if he’s a first-timer then it’s odds on he won’t even turn up. Please, sweetheart. It’s my birthday. And it’s just this gorgeous design. You’ll love it. Look!’

  She waved my card at him.

  ‘Bit intricate, isn’t it?’ he said, looking at my birthday drawing.

  I blushed, not wanting him to laugh at me.

  ‘Steve!’ said Marigold impatiently.

  ‘Nice drawing,’ Steve said to me. Then he turned the card over. ‘Ah.’

  ‘It’s great, isn’t it. I thought right here.’ Marigold tapped her right elbow.

  Steve tutted, the silver flashing in his tongue.

  ‘You’re paying, I take it?’

  ‘Out of my wages,’ said Marigold.