My Mum Tracy Beaker Read online

  ‘Well, I don’t know what she was like when she was a kid, but you have to admit she’s quite a looker now. And a clever little business woman too. Shame you can’t stand her – I fancy a line of her health and beauty products for the gym,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  ‘And you fancy her too,’ said Mum.

  ‘Here you go with those beady green eyes again! It’s you I fancy, babe. Why can’t you get it into that silly little noddle of yours?’

  ‘Because my beady green eyes have read every disgusting message on that secret phone of yours.’

  There was a tiny pause. I held Alfie so tightly he whimpered.

  ‘You’ve been ferreting around in my study, reading my phone?’ said Sean Godfrey. He sounded furious now. ‘How could you be so despicable? And how did you know my password anyway?’

  I swallowed hard.

  ‘Any fool could work it out,’ said Mum. ‘And how dare you call me despicable? You’ve been seeing her ever since you brought her here! You have the cheek to act the Mr Nice Guy with Jess and me, and yet, now I’ve found you out, you make out it’s somehow my fault!’

  They went on and on yelling at each other, while I hung onto Alfie, shivering. I hated it when they were all lovey-dovey together – but this was far worse.

  ‘You’re a liar and a cheat, Sean. I can’t bear it. I’m leaving you,’ said Mum.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Trace. We’re getting married!’

  ‘No we’re not. Here!’

  I knew what Mum was doing. She was pulling that big diamond off her ring finger and giving it back to him.

  ‘Tracy, Tracy, Tracy. Don’t be like this, babe,’ said Sean Godfrey, wheedling now. ‘OK, hands up, I had a little fling with Justine. It was all her doing. I’d have had to be a man of steel to resist her. But it was totally meaningless, babe – surely you can see that. She doesn’t mean anything to me. You mean all the world.’

  ‘And you meant all the world to me,’ said Mum. ‘I thought you were the man of my dreams.’

  ‘And I still am! Look, I never dreamed you’d be so straight-laced about one little fling. You should see some of my football pals! You’ve given me the grief – now I’ll make it up to you. We’ll put it behind us, eh?’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Mum. ‘Perhaps if it was any other girl … but you had to go and choose Justine Littlewood. If you can’t see why that hurts so much, then you’re more of a fool than I thought. I’m leaving, I tell you.’

  ‘Then you’re the fool, Tracy Beaker,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘Go on then, get out. Go back to your grotty little flat and your sad little life, Miss Nobody.’

  There was the sound of a very hard slap – and then Mum came rushing out of the door. I caught a glimpse of Sean Godfrey looking dazed, one side of his face bright red.

  ‘Come on, Jess,’ said Mum. ‘We’re getting our things.’

  We got the laundry bags from the back of the cupboard and started packing. We didn’t stop to search for bubble wrap – we simply wrapped the Mickey Mouse alarm clock and the china dogs and the Toby jugs and all the other breakables in our clothes. Then I pulled the mother-and-daughter picture out of the wardrobe. Alfie kept circling us, whimpering, wondering what on earth was going on.

  When we dragged everything downstairs, we found Sean Godfrey in the sitting room, drinking a glass of whisky.

  ‘We’re off now,’ said Mum. ‘I’ll phone for a taxi.’

  ‘For pity’s sake, Trace, use your car,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  ‘I’m not taking it. It’s not mine any more.’

  ‘Look, you idiot, I don’t want that ancient piece of pink metal, and I can’t see anyone else being mug enough to take it either. If you don’t keep it, it’ll just get crunched in the scrapyard.’ Sean Godfrey took another gulp of his drink.

  ‘All right. I’ll take it. Thank you,’ said Mum. She paused. ‘Thank you for everything, Sean.’

  He didn’t answer her, so we left. I didn’t say goodbye to him, and I held Alfie on a tight lead so he couldn’t either. But as Mum started up the car he came running out.

  ‘Trace! Stop this nonsense! I can’t believe you’re really going through with it!’ he shouted.

  ‘I can’t believe it either,’ said Mum. ‘But I am.’

  ‘Well, don’t think you can come crawling back in a couple of days when you come to your senses. You drive away now and that’s it. Finished. For ever. No one turns their back on Sean Godfrey.’

  ‘And no one cheats on Tracy Beaker, especially not with Justine Slimebag Littlewood,’ said Mum, putting her foot down on the accelerator.

  ‘Good for you, Mum,’ I said as we drove off. I waited a few seconds. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Home.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘We’ll smuggle Alfie in somehow. Even if someone reports us, it’ll be a while before the council sends one of their snippy letters. And by that time we’ll be gone. Starting our new life,’ said Mum.

  ‘Right,’ I said. I wished she would say what our new life was going to be. It felt like we’d jumped off a cliff, Mum and Alfie and me, and were frantically running through thin air like cartoon characters, not sure where we were going to land.

  The Duke Estate looked grimmer than ever. Someone had spray-painted more tags all around Marlborough Tower. There was another old stained mattress dumped on the asphalt, and the rubbish chutes were blocked, so reeking plastic bags spilled their contents everywhere. Our old car was still in its place, but they’d sprayed tags on that too, and stolen all four wheels. Mum said a few very rude words about the kids who’d done it and then looked at me.

  ‘You didn’t hear that, did you, Jess?’

  ‘Good job you kept the Cadillac, Mum,’ I said.

  ‘I’m not leaving it here five minutes,’ said Mum. ‘I’ll take our stuff up, and you and Alfie stay here to guard the car, and then we’ll go and park it somewhere safe and walk back, OK?’

  Mum staggered off with the bags and disappeared into the lift. Lots of kids came up, gawping at the Cadillac.

  ‘What sort of car’s that then, Jess Beaker?’

  ‘It’s a Barbie Doll car!’

  They all laughed. How dare they mock Mum’s dream car!

  ‘Get them, Alfie,’ I hissed.

  Alfie didn’t understand. He stood up on his seat, tail wagging, trying to lick them, desperate to make friends.

  ‘Come to gloat over us, have you? Slumming it for five minutes before you go back to your posh mansion, eh?’

  I was shocked at how horrid they were – and a little bit scared. Very scared, actually. Especially when one of the big boys got out a knife. It was only a penknife, but it could still do a lot of harm.

  ‘Shall I write your mum’s name on it for her?’ he said, grinning.

  ‘You make one scratch and I’ll punch your teeth in,’ I said, as fiercely as I could.

  That made them all laugh, because the boy was twice my size. I sat up as tall as I could and screwed my face up in a scowl, my fists clenched, though I was actually very nearly wetting myself. Then I heard a chorus of ‘Hey, Jess!’ and it was Tyrone and his gang from Devonshire Tower come to see what was going on.

  ‘Oh, Tyrone!’ I called, thrilled to see him.

  Even the biggest boy on our block was wary of Tyrone. They backed away uneasily, pretending they’d just remembered they had some place else to be.

  ‘What you doing back here then? Hey, Alfie, boy! Good dog! That’s right, lick me all over, I could do with a little wash,’ said Tyrone, laughing. He stroked the shiny pink of the Cadillac regretfully. ‘What on earth was your mum thinking, choosing this old wreck? You gonna take me for a spin in it then, Jess?’

  ‘Ha ha,’ I said.

  ‘Tell you what – I’ll take you for one,’ he offered, jumping into the driver’s seat.

  ‘No! You can’t drive for starters!’ I said.

  ‘I know how. And any fool can steer. We won’t go very fast, just round the block. No one will know,’