Queenie Read online

‘All right, if you know best, miss, of course,’ said Mum. ‘Now stop that silly fuss and see what I’ve got you.’ She snapped open her handbag and brought out a little thin box, the sort you kept jewellery in. I stared at it through blurry eyes. I was still sobbing my heart out for Nan, but I couldn’t help wondering what it was. Could it possibly be a silver charm bracelet like Moira’s?

  It wasn’t a charm bracelet. It wasn’t any kind of jewellery. It was a silver Perkins pen.

  ‘It’s our deluxe edition, the very best,’ said Mum. ‘See, I’ve even had your name engraved on the barrel. They’ve done it all fancy with flourishes, Elsie. Well, what do you say? Isn’t it lovely?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, in a very small voice.

  ‘What was that?’ said Mum, cupping her ear.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mum.’

  ‘That’s better. You’re a very lucky girl. Those pens aren’t made for children, you know. You’ve got a notebook, haven’t you? You can write down all your stories now. And write to me if you like, though I haven’t got an address sorted out just yet. We’ll stay in a hotel first, and then Perky will probably rent a place. Hey, come on now. Are you crying because I’m going away?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Well, don’t worry, it’s not going to be permanent – just for a few months, till Perky gets the new business up and running.’

  ‘A few months?’ I said, suddenly frightened.

  ‘Yes, but there’s no need to fuss. You’re safely looked after here in hospital, aren’t you? It’s the ideal time for me to take this opportunity.’

  ‘But – but what will happen to me when I get better?’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be back by then,’ said Mum. ‘Oh, you’re in a right mood today. Cheer up! I thought you’d be happy for me. You mustn’t be selfish, Elsie.’

  ‘You will come back, won’t you, Mum?’ I said.

  ‘Of course I will. I promise.’ She said it looking straight into my eyes – but she’d broken heaps of promises before.

  RITA STARTED TO get better next. She was surprisingly quick to be up and walking, and it wasn’t long before they told her she could leave the hospital. She looked so different in her going-home clothes. Her mum had bought her a new blue Vyella dress with smocking, a beige tweed coat and a beige velour hat to go with it. She even had new matching footwear: pale blue socks and big beige shoes like boats to keep her upright. I couldn’t help being glad that her beautiful outfit was a little spoiled by her orthopaedic shoes – and then I felt deeply ashamed because Rita clumped over to my bed in her new shoes and handed me a soft little parcel folded round and round like a Swiss roll.

  ‘It’s my cat pyjamas. I don’t want them any more,’ she said.

  I gave her a hug and wished I’d been a better friend to her. I wondered if I should try to be a good friend to Moira, who was missing Rita terribly – but the moment little Michael went home she palled up with Maureen. I was relieved, because I didn’t really like Moira much. I was very happy to stay best friends with Angus.

  He was a truly good friend, my third favourite person ever. Nan was still my number one, and Nurse Gabriel second. I loved Queenie too, very much indeed. Sometimes I rearranged Nurse Gabriel and Angus, and had Queenie second after Nan. Mum didn’t get a look in now.

  I wasn’t prepared for Angus to get better. Somehow I’d assumed he’d have to stay immobile on his back even when they cut him out of his plaster cast. He’d always seemed so much worse than any of us. He had regular X-rays, and Sir David told him that the bones in his spine were starting to heal. He was allowed out of his plaster bed at long last, though he had a splint instead. Miss Westlake got to work on his legs, and he actually started to walk. He could only manage little jerky robot steps, inches at a time – but he was definitely mobile.

  ‘Well done, Angus! Hey, you’ll be running soon. Playing football. Doing your daft Scottish dancing. All sorts,’ I said, and I clapped him until he blushed scarlet.

  ‘Good girl, Elsie,’ Nurse Gabriel murmured on Sunday. ‘I know you must envy Angus terribly. You’ll really miss him when he goes home.’

  ‘I will,’ I said, my voice wobbly.

  ‘Still, never mind, dear. It’ll be your turn soon,’ said Nurse Gabriel. ‘I’ve had a look at your latest X-rays. That naughty old knee looks much healthier. Not too long now.’

  This news set my stomach churning.

  ‘Cheer up, sweetheart! You’re doing really well. You’ll be home before Christmas, just as I promised,’ said Nurse Gabriel.

  ‘But maybe Mum won’t be back then,’ I whispered.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘She said not to tell,’ I said.

  ‘You can tell me,’ said Nurse Gabriel, taking hold of my hand.

  ‘Mum’s gone to Canada.’

  ‘What? Canada! Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s all hush-hush. You won’t tell anyone, will you, Nurse Gabriel?’

  ‘When’s your mum coming back from this holiday then, Elsie?’

  ‘It’s not a holiday, it’s work. I don’t know when she’ll be back. I don’t really mind – it’s Nan who always looks after me, but now Mum says Nan’s too poorly. Mum acts like Nan’s never going to get better.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about it, Elsie,’ said Nurse Gabriel, putting her arm round me. ‘I’m sure your mum will be back long before you’re ready to go home. But perhaps you should write to her, so she knows you’re making really good progress.’

  ‘I would write, but she’s never sent me her address,’ I said.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Nurse Gabriel. ‘Well, never mind. I’m sure she must have left a forwarding address with someone. Maybe she’s written to Sister Baker and told her. Don’t dwell on it, Elsie.’

  She gave me a purple chocolate nut caramel from the sweet tin, my favourite, and when the bell went for the end of visiting hours, she scooped Queenie up and popped her onto my bed. ‘There – you give Queenie a little cuddle,’ she said.

  I held Queenie close, burying my head in her soft white fur. ‘What am I going to do, Queenie?’ I whispered. ‘What if Mum never comes back? And what if Nan never gets better? Who will look after me?’

  ‘There there,’ Queenie purred. ‘You can look after yourself, Elsie. You can clean and do the washing and the shopping and cook cheesy beanos. You’ll manage just fine and dandy, dear.’

  ‘But they won’t let me,’ I said. ‘They don’t allow children to live by themselves.’

  ‘You can come and live with me!’ Angus hissed.

  I hadn’t realized he’d been listening. I was so taken aback I couldn’t even reply.

  ‘It would be absolutely wizard. We could play together every day, and you could go to my school and we could sit next to each other in class. You could share my bedroom. I’ll ask Mum to get us bunk beds. You can even have the top one if you like.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Oh Angus, it would be smashing,’ I said. ‘But your mum and dad wouldn’t want me.’

  ‘Yes they would. They like you lots because I like you. And they’ve always wanted a little girl. I’ve just got two brothers, and I bet they’ve got a bit bored with boys. You wait, Elsie. I’ll ask next week, and they’ll say yes, and then when you get better you can stay with us until your mum comes back.’

  ‘I wish I could. I wish I could stay with you for ever,’ I said. ‘But they’ll say no. You wait and see.’

  And of course they did say no, though they sounded upset, and they hated it when Angus pleaded.

  ‘No, son, it’s simply not possible. Now don’t take on so. Don’t be silly – of course we like Elsie, she’s a lovely wee girl, but she’s not our wee girl, don’t you see?’

  I saw, but Angus wouldn’t. He kept on nagging, and ended up crying bitterly, which made his mother cry too.

  ‘Don’t, Angus. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine,’ I lied. ‘My mum will come back.’

  But she didn’t.

  ‘You’re absolutely certain