Little Darlings Read online

  ‘That’s your opinion but you’re just a silly little girl,’ says Big Mouth.

  ‘I’ll tell Daddy you said that,’ says Sweetie.

  ‘Tell away, darling. See if I care,’ she says.

  She’s so sure of herself. She doesn’t even flatter Dad when she’s with him. She just shrugs when he asks her to help us find new clothes, and says, ‘I don’t know what little kids like. You kit them out. It was your idea to have them with us for the weekend.’

  Dad calls an assistant over quickly and Lizzi wanders off humming, messing around with the clothes on the rails, not the slightest bit interested.

  Sweetie perks up now and starts to organize a new top and trousers and frilly nightie for herself, and then decides she simply has to have some little suede boots with heels. They don’t make them as small as Sweetie’s size but she wants them anyway, saying she’ll stuff socks in the toes.

  I know what I want too. It’s easy: a new black T-shirt, black jeans and even new lacy mittens because the first ones are starting to tear. I’d like black pyjamas too but I can’t find any. I have to make do with navy blue.

  Ace is much more difficult to please. The assistant tries hard with him, offering him army khaki or bright scarlet, but he’s not interested in ordinary clothes. He wants a Tigerman costume and we can’t find one anywhere. He starts crying and he won’t stop.

  ‘For God’s sake, Ace, what’s the matter with you?’ Dad shouts.

  He picks out a T-shirt, shorts and pyjamas for Ace, not bothering to let him choose. Ace is in despair. I pick him up and he sobs into my neck. I have a sudden idea.

  ‘Dad, can we go to the toy department?’

  ‘The toy department? You kids, you’re always after something. Aren’t you getting a bit old for toys, Sunset?’

  ‘It’s not for me, Dad. I’ve thought of something we could get Ace. I promise it’s only little, not at all expensive.’

  ‘Ace doesn’t deserve anything – he’s acting like a spoiled brat,’ says Dad, but he gives in.

  Lizzi huffs and sighs when he says we’re going to the toy department, but she acts like she loves it when we get there. She and Dad muck around with the teddies, making them bob about and talk to each other. It is seriously embarrassing, but I ignore them and search hard, holding Sweetie’s hand and lumbering Ace along on my hip. Then I find what I’m looking for: face paints!

  ‘Here you are, Ace, this will do the trick!’ I say.

  He stops grizzling to peer at the tin. ‘That’s make-up!’ he says. ‘That’s not for boys.’

  ‘No, no, it’s magic sticks of paint for your face. I’m going to paint you. I’m going to use the orange stick and the black stick, with maybe the pink stick for the nose – and guess who you’ll be?’

  Ace shuffles uncertainly. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Of course you know. You’ll be Tigerman!’ I look at Sweetie. ‘And I’ll paint you too, with blue shadow for your eyes and red lipstick, and you’ll be a fairy-tale princess.’

  I take them back to Dad, both smiling. I want him to say, ‘Thank you so much for calming them down, Sunset. You’re so good with your brother and sister. What would I do without you?’ But surprise surprise, he just smiles back at us and buys the face paints, saying mildly, ‘What do you want them for?’

  So I start to tell him, and he nods a bit, but I know he’s not really listening, and then he’s distracted anyway because two silly grannies start squealing and blushing like schoolgirls, begging him for his autograph. Big Mouth laughs at them, raising her eyebrows at us. She’s more interested in the face paints.

  ‘Oh, cool! I love face paints! I used to run the face-paint stall at my school fête. I love doing it. Wait till we get back to the hotel, you three, and I’ll make you all up.’

  ‘They’re my face paints. I want to do it,’ I say childishly.

  She shrugs. ‘OK. No probs. You do it, Sunset.’

  So when we get to Dad’s hotel suite (which is huge, like an apartment, with so many flowers and ornaments and fancy bits I’m terrified Ace will knock them all over), I have a go at painting Ace’s face like a tiger. It’s much more difficult than I thought. I can’t get the stripes to go right and he doesn’t look fierce enough.

  ‘You’re Tigerman now, Ace. Oh goodness, I’m scared of you!’ I say nevertheless, but he scowls at himself in the mirror, not convinced.

  I try with Sweetie too, but the colours are too strong and she doesn’t look like a fairy princess at all. She looks like a pantomime dame. Her chin quivers when she sees herself.

  ‘Maybe it was a silly idea,’ I mutter. ‘I’ll wash it all off.’

  ‘Have a wash in my big bath,’ says Dad.

  It’s an enormous bath made of blue marble. The water comes out of the silver dolphin taps already blue too! There are all sorts of soaps and shampoos and bubblebaths. I wish I could lie back in the bath all by myself and pretend to be a movie star, but I’m stuck with Sweetie and Ace. I don’t even take all my clothes off to get in the bath because I’m worried Dad or Big Mouth will come in. Sweetie and Ace strip off and splash around and pretend to swim and cheer up considerably. I’m anxious when a lot of the face paint is wiped off on the snowy white towels, but Big Mouth Liz shrugs again when she sees.

  ‘We’ll get housekeeping to bring us more,’ she says.

  She’s eyeing up her face in the mirror, putting on more lipstick. I bet she gets that all over the towels too.

  ‘Could you do my face so it looks properly like a princess?’ Sweetie asks her.

  I’m taken aback by her betrayal. Liz paints her a beautiful princess face, with little blue and lilac flowers on her cheeks, silver stars round her eyes, and a tiny blue butterfly shimmering on her forehead. Sweetie is delighted, running around in just a towel to show Dad. He bows to her and acts as if he’s blinded by her beauty. Then it’s Ace’s turn. Big Mouth turns him into a magnificent Tigerman. She can do all the stripes the right way. She can even manage whiskers, and she makes him look comically fierce. I remember how she held Ace in her arms at the premiere of Milky Star. It’s only a few weeks ago but it seems like years now, so much has happened since.

  It’s all Big Mouth’s fault that our family’s been ripped apart and made so unhappy. I think about Mum at home and how miserable she’ll be. She’ll drink much too much and I won’t be there to help her up to bed.

  I glare at Lizzi when she asks me if I’d like my face painted too. ‘No, thank you,’ I say coldly – though I’d actually love to see what I look like with flowers and stars and butterflies on my face.

  ‘OK, I’ll make your dad up then,’ she says.

  I think Dad will make a fuss but he sits obediently on the bathroom stool and lets her paint his face. He’s actually chuckling, enjoying himself. She turns him into a vampire, making his face very white, with dark rings round his eyes and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looks pretty scary, and Sweetie and Ace squeal in delighted horror. Dad chases them round the suite pretending he’s going to bite them, and they charge about, shrieking.

  ‘Dad, Dad, you’re getting them too excited,’ I say. ‘They won’t settle at bedtime.’

  Big Mouth looks at me. ‘How old are you, Sunset, seventy? Why can’t you lighten up and let everyone have a bit of fun?’

  She’s not the one who gets woken up in the middle of the night with Ace screaming that the vampire’s going to get him and bite him to bits. I have to rush Sweetie to the toilet too because she feels sick. Dad ordered room service for our dinner and let us choose anything we wanted. Sweetie chose three puddings – Ice-cream Delight, Chocolate Heaven and Lemon Yum-yum. They’re not at all delightful or heavenly or yummy when they splash into the toilet. Sweetie needs a lot of mopping up and cuddling afterwards.

  None of us sleep properly after that. We huddle up together in this king-size bed in the second bedroom. The pillows are too fat and the sheets are too tight and the room is too hot. We turn and fidget and fuss in our un