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  When Matty got to school, she was all over me too.

  ‘I texted everyone I know to tell them to watch London Local on their iPlayer because my best friend was the star of the show,’ she said. ‘And Lewis told everyone too. He even told people in the park when we went for a walk on Sunday. And lots of them said they’d seen you. You’re famous, Tilly!’

  ‘My mum saw me on television,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she would have done,’ said Matty, slightly awkwardly.

  ‘No, she really did. She came to see me on Sunday,’

  ‘What? Really? Oh, Tilly! You’re not making it up, are you?’ Matty asked.

  ‘No, she really came, Sunday morning. And we had roast chicken for lunch and we were supposed to have banoffee pie but I spilled it so I made fairy cakes instead,’ I said.

  ‘So what’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter. I’ve got some of the cakes in my lunchbox. You can have one later if you like,’ I said.

  ‘Your voice is still all funny, like something bad happened.’ Matty put her arm round me. ‘Tell me, Tilly.’

  I squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t start crying again. ‘It wasn’t the way I wanted it to be,’ I said in a shaky little voice.

  ‘Why? Wasn’t your mum nice to you?’

  ‘She was ever so nice and gave me lots of cuddles, but . . . she wasn’t the way I remembered her. She doesn’t even look the same. She’s got fat and her hair’s black now.’

  ‘Are you sure she really was your mum?’ asked Matty. ‘She looked ever so slim in that photo in your bedroom. And fair.’

  ‘She’s dyed her hair. And she’s not actually fat fat, she’s going to have a baby.’

  ‘A baby?’ said Matty. ‘What? So she and your dad have got back together then?’

  ‘No, it’s someone else’s baby. Tim. He’s her partner now,’ I said.

  ‘Oh,’ said Matty. ‘Poor you. And poor your dad too.’

  ‘Well. He says he doesn’t mind.’

  ‘I think he’s just saying that,’ said Matty, her arms folded, her head on one side, trying to look worldly wise.

  ‘No, I think he likes someone else now,’ I said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Well, it’s someone you know.’

  ‘Really?’ Matty wrinkled up her nose. ‘Not that Aunty Sue lady, the one who used to fetch you from school?’

  ‘No! Don’t be daft. Look, promise you won’t tell, because it’s obviously a secret, but I think Dad’s got a crush on Miss Hope,’ I whispered.

  ‘Miss Hope?’

  ‘Ssh!’ I glanced around the playground to see if anyone was within earshot. ‘I said, it’s a secret.’

  ‘But Miss Hope’s a teacher.’

  ‘Well, she’s not Dad’s teacher, is she?’

  ‘No, but – well, it’s a bit weird. Are you sure?’

  ‘Dad phones her up a lot at night. And when he talks to her, his voice goes different. It’s all soft and happy-sounding.’

  ‘Imagine Miss Hope and your dad kissing!’ said Matty, and she started making kissing noises and squealing with laughter.

  ‘Do shut up, Matty. It’s not funny.’

  ‘It is, it is! I’m not laughing in a mean way – I think it’s great. Oh wow, what if they get married? Then you could be their bridesmaid in that pink dress!’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s not going to happen. Because I yelled down the phone at Miss Hope last night and told her to go away and leave my dad alone,’ I said miserably.

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Tilly! So what did she say?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just ran upstairs afterwards. Oh, Matty, I don’t know what to do now. Do you think she’ll be really cross with me?’

  ‘Yes! She’ll probably make you stand outside with your hands on your head. She might even Sellotape your mouth up. Or she might find one of those canes from olden times and beat you with it,’ said Matty. ‘Don’t look like that, Tilly, I’m joking. No, I think she’ll act all sorrowful and reproachful and say she’s very disappointed in you. That’s the way she was with me that time I threw the ball at Simon Perkins’s head accidentally on purpose.’

  ‘I hate it when she’s all sorrowful and reproachful,’ I said. ‘What if she doesn’t like me any more?’

  ‘But you don’t like her, do you? I thought you yelled at her to go away and stop seeing your dad?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t think I really meant it,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, Tilly, you don’t half do my head in. I don’t get you at all sometimes,’ said Matty, exasperated.

  ‘But you are still my best friend?’

  ‘Of course I am, you nutter.’

  The bell sounded for the start of school.

  ‘Oh help,’ I said.

  ‘Come on. It’ll be all right, I’m sure. Just give her a big smile and hope for the best,’ said Matty as we went in.

  I tried to fix a smile on my face, but it went a bit wobbly as we went into the classroom. Miss Hope was there, looking just the same, her hair up, her moon earrings gleaming, her same old navy pinafore and white shirt neat and boring, her shoes flat and sturdy. She was smiling, but not especially at me.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she said calmly.

  ‘Good morn-ing, Miss Hope,’ we chorused.

  She took the register, calling our names. Mine was first on the list.

  ‘Matilda Andrews?’ she said. She didn’t look at me – she kept her eyes on her register.

  ‘Yes, Miss Hope,’ I said, my voice a bit husky, partly from all the crying yesterday, partly from nerves.

  Matilda sounded so formal and unfriendly. Though this was what Miss Hope always called me when she was taking the register. She called Matty Matilda too.

  The lessons that morning went on for ever and ever. Miss Hope wandered around while we worked on our Anglo-Saxon village projects. She did actually pause and say, ‘That’s looking good,’ to Matty and me as we wove our raffia huts, but then she drifted off and spent a good ten minutes with Cathy and Amanda.

  I discussed the situation worriedly with Matty at break time.

  ‘She hates me now. I just know she does,’ I said. ‘I can tell.’

  ‘Don’t be so daft. She’s being ever so nice. She is nice. I still don’t quite get why you yelled at her on the phone. If I didn’t have a proper mum, I’d like Miss Hope to go out with my dad,’ Matty said.

  ‘I have got a proper mum,’ I said automatically.

  ‘Yes, but she’s moved on now, hasn’t she? She’s going to be someone else’s mum too.’

  ‘Imagine! I never thought I’d ever have a sister. I always wanted one,’ I said.

  ‘Me too. I’ll swop you Lewis for your new sister. Especially as I wouldn’t have to see her heaps or share a bedroom with her,’ said Matty. ‘Lewis snores. Really snores, like a little old man. I feel like putting a clothes peg on his nose.’

  ‘Poor Lewis. You’re so mean to him.’

  ‘He’s mean to me! He secretly scrubbed all the ink tattoos off Princess Power and dressed her up in Mum’s silk scarf with an earring in her hair for a tiara, and started calling her Princess Pretty-Face. So then I got my scissors and unstitched the mouth and eyes on his stupid cuddle bear and called him Blank-Face, and Lewis started howling and told Mum and Dad, and they got really narked with me. It was just a joke to get even with him, that’s all. But now I don’t get any crisps or chocolate for a whole week, not even a measly little packet of chocolate raisins for my packed lunch. And Mum sewed a much better face on Lewis’s bear, with a big smile, and Lewis likes him even more, so he’s ever so happy. And I’m in disgrace and starving – I’ve just got boring old hummus sandwiches and carrot sticks and an apple for lunch.’

  ‘You can have cake. I’ve got special fairy cakes. Well, the icing melted into the cakes, but they still taste all right.’

  It was a relief talking about ordinary silly things like Matty and Lewis having