Queenie Read online

  ‘But Elsie—’ Nan said urgently.

  ‘Look at her – she’s right as rain, aren’t you, Elsie?’ said Mum, giving me a nudge. ‘She’s always been a bit on the skinny side, it’s just natural – and she hasn’t got a cough, has she?’

  ‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Nan. ‘But promise you’ll take her for this test.’

  ‘Yes, yes, don’t fuss about it.’ Mum looked at her watch. ‘We’d better get going soon.’

  ‘No, Mum, we’ve only just got here!’ I protested. ‘I want to stay with Nan all afternoon.’

  ‘That old bag at reception said we’re only allowed ten minutes on this ward – and you’re not supposed to be here at all, Elsie. They’re just turning a blind eye as we’ve come all this way,’ said Mum.

  ‘All right, then. Best get going,’ said Nan. ‘But you’ll come back next Saturday, won’t you?’ She looked anxiously at Mum.

  ‘We’ll do our best, though those Green Line buses are only one an hour from town and they go all round the moon, and then the nearest stop is a good mile away from this dump.’ Mum peered at her shoes, frowning. ‘I’ve worn down my heels at the back, look! We need to kit ourselves out with hiking boots to get here.’

  ‘But we’d come even if we had five miles to walk, Nan. No, fifty miles. We’d come if we had to walk through mud up to our ankles – up to our knees – up to our chins,’ I said.

  ‘Button it, Elsie. You’re just being silly now,’ said Mum, standing up. ‘Right, we’ll bring you some more sweeties next time, Mum. We can all make pigs of ourselves now rationing’s over! I’d offer to do your laundry, but you’d better let the hospital boil it up, because of the germs. You take care now.’

  Nan’s mouth drooped, though I could see she was struggling to control it. I wanted to throw my arms round her, but I knew it wasn’t allowed now. She looked so little and lonely in her strange neat bed.

  ‘Here, Nan,’ I said, bending down and then pretending to pick up a furry handful. ‘You have Snow White and Sooty and Marmalade all week. They’ll bounce about on your bed and keep you amused.’

  ‘You what?’ said Mum – but Nan smiled, though her eyes were watering again.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ she said, stroking thin air. ‘I’ll look after them ever so carefully. Whoops! Watch it, Marmalade – don’t fall off the bed.’

  ‘You two are a right pair of loonies,’ said Mum. ‘OK, we’re off then. Ta-ta, Mum.’

  ‘Bye, Nan. Oh, I’ll miss you so. Bye-bye,’ I said.

  I blew kisses to Nan – and then I had to kiss Snow White and Sooty and Marmalade. It made Nan laugh but it made Mum sigh heavily.

  ‘Come on, Elsie, quit acting daft,’ she said, tugging at me.

  It felt terrible walking out of the ward. I kept peering round to wave to Nan. She started to cough, but she kept her mouth clamped shut, her eyes popping, so she wouldn’t have to spit again while we were watching.

  I kept seeing her face all the way home. I started to cry a little – just quietly, no noise at all.

  ‘Stop that snivelling now,’ said Mum.

  ‘But I’m so sad for Nan,’ I moaned.

  ‘Crying in the street and making a public spectacle of yourself isn’t going to help her, is it? Now pull yourself together.’

  We just missed our Green Line bus home, even though we ran for it. We had to wait a whole hour for the next. I kept trying not to cry, but I couldn’t help the odd sniff and snort.

  ‘Oh dear, what’s up with you, tuppence-ha’penny?’ asked a fat woman waiting with us. ‘Have you been naughty? Have you had a telling off?’

  ‘My nanny’s ill,’ I wailed, though Mum’s fingers dug into my shoulder.

  ‘Oh dear, I hope it’s nothing serious,’ said the woman. ‘You been to visit her then?’

  I nodded, though Mum’s fingers pressed harder.

  The fat woman paused, her beady eyes darting from me to Mum and back again. ‘She’s not in the sanatorium, is she?’ she said, nodding in that direction.

  ‘No, she’s not,’ said Mum forcefully.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said the fat woman. ‘It’s a disgrace they built it there, right in a residential area. They say it’s not catching, but you can’t fool me. It’s a wonder we haven’t gone down with it. We all breathe the same air, don’t we? Mind you, I don’t want to sound uncharitable. I feel sorry for the poor souls stuck in there. They go in – but you never see them coming out. They say you can cure TB now, but I think they all fade away.’

  I gave a little gasp.

  ‘Do you mind? You’re upsetting my little girl,’ said Mum, and she steered us several paces up the pavement.

  I shook with suppressed sobs while Mum dabbed at my face with her hankie.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of that nosy old biddy,’ she muttered.

  ‘But she said—’

  ‘Yes, and I say she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s just making mischief. Don’t take any notice.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. You take note of what I say. I’m your mother, aren’t I?’

  I knew she was my mother whether I wanted her to be or not. I snuffled against her and she patted me, the two of us together, united against the fat woman. Mum even started up a game of I Spy to pass the time. We had M is for Mum and T is for tree and N is for nylons and BS for bus stop and NV for nail varnish, and then I spied something beginning with VFL and Mum was stumped. I whispered, ‘Very fat lady,’ and we both got the giggles.

  We were getting on famously, but then I spoiled it all on the long bus journey home. The driver kept stopping and starting, jolting us backwards and forwards.

  ‘Mum, I feel sick,’ I whispered.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ said Mum, but I couldn’t help it, and we didn’t have a carrier bag with us either.

  I MISSED MY kittens badly on Sunday. I had their picture on the chocolate box but they wouldn’t come alive for me. Of course, I knew they weren’t real, but they’d been real in my head, and they left a big gap. Still, I was happy they were playing with Nan now. They’d be romping all over her bed with their little paddy paws, and then diving under the covers whenever a nurse came near. They’d curl up on Nan, one round her neck, one tucked into her armpit and one on her tummy, and then they’d all three go to sleep. Nan could stroke their soft fur – oh, they’d be better than furry mittens.

  I was glad I’d given them to Nan, but my own little couch felt cold and empty without them – and I had no one to play with all day. Mum slept late and I had to creep about the flat so I wouldn’t disturb her. I made myself some bread and jam and didn’t put the kettle on because it had a noisy whistle. I tried to make a pot of tea using hot water from the tap but it didn’t work properly, and I had to pour it all away.

  I read my old Girl comic, though I’d read it from cover to cover already. I liked ‘Belle of the Ballet’ best. I tried tying my hair back like Belle’s and pretending it was blonde instead of brown. I wished I had real ballet shoes. Laura Totteridge went to ballet classes. She changed into her special ballet outfit in the girls’ toilets before she went off to her after-school class. She wore a black tunic, with matching black satin knickers, and an angora bolero – pink to match her ballet shoes.

  I wished I could be Laura. Well, I wanted to keep my own nan, but apart from that I wanted to swap. Laura had a big brother who watched out for her and gave her piggybacks, and she had a little sister who hung on her hand and giggled at everything she said. She had a kind soft mother who came to meet her from school every day, and I’m sure she had a gentle big father who told her she was his pretty princess.

  I’d told Nan all about Laura.

  ‘Why don’t you make friends with her, Elsie? She sounds such a nice girl,’ she suggested.

  I loved Nan more than anyone else ever, but sometimes she made me sigh and roll my eyes. As if a girl like Laura would ever be friendly with a girl like me.

  ‘Go on, try to make friends with her