Little Darlings Read online

  ‘Maybe we’d be better off walking?’ Mum suggests, sighing – but then a lorry stops.

  ‘Where are you going to, darling?’

  ‘Robin Hill.’

  ‘Oh yeah? OK, hop in.’

  ‘I’ve got my daughter.’

  ‘She can hop in too.’

  ‘You’re actually going to Robin Hill?’

  ‘I’m going to Kingtown. That’s just past it, so I’ll shove you out on my way, if that’s OK.’

  ‘Oh, it’s more than OK, it’s absolutely wonderful!’ says Mum.

  She takes hold of my hand and we clamber up into the cab. The lorry driver shakes us both by the hand.

  ‘Hi, girls,’ he says. ‘I’m Ginger, for obvious reasons.’

  He’s got bright red curly hair and a cheery freckled face. He doesn’t look like a madman who will axe us both to death, but I’m still wary, though Mum’s grinning at him like he’s her best friend.

  ‘Well, nice to meet you, girls,’ says Ginger. ‘So how come you’re out and about at this mad hour? Partying all night, eh?’ He pauses. ‘Oh dear, not doing a runner from the old man?’

  ‘I haven’t got an old man – and I don’t want one either,’ says Mum. ‘It’s kind of complicated, Ginger. We’re going to be like surprise guests.’

  ‘I see,’ says Ginger, though he clearly doesn’t. ‘Oh well, it’s great to have a little company in the cab. Someone to chat to. When I’m working nights I tend to get a bit dozy round about this time – don’t worry, don’t worry, I’m not about to nod off . . .’ He lowers his head for a split second and gives a snorty snore and then bellows with laughter. ‘Your faces! No, don’t worry, girls, you’re safe with me.’

  We are safe too, all the way down the dual carriageway. Then he slows down and stops in a hotel car park.

  ‘Here we are. Told you I’d get you here safe and sound,’ says Ginger.

  Mum and I sit up straight, rubbing our eyes. I think we both dozed off. Mum’s ponytail has collapsed altogether and the make-up’s smeared round her eyes, but she still smiles radiantly.

  ‘We’re here, at Robin Hill?’ she says.

  ‘Yeah, just down that lane.’

  ‘Then you’re a gold-star darling, Ginger,’ says Mum, and she kisses him on the cheek.

  I mumble thank you and hope I won’t have to kiss him too. We jump down from the lorry cab and Ginger blows kisses to us as he drives off, his snub nose wrinkling.

  ‘Doesn’t he look like a pig when he does that!’

  ‘That’s a horrid thing to say, Destiny,’ says Mum, but she giggles. ‘He didn’t act like a pig though, did he? He was a total sweetheart – and the taxi driver too. We’ve been so lucky.’

  Mum’s still smiling, though she’s wrapping her arms tight round herself and stamping her legs, shivering.

  ‘What are we going to do now then, Mum?’ I say in a tiny voice.

  She looks at me reproachfully. ‘For a bright girl you can be very slow on the uptake, Destiny! We’re going to find Danny’s house.’

  I look longingly at the hotel. I think of a hot bath, a clean bed with white sheets . . . Mum’s looking too. She fiddles with her tangled hair.

  ‘It would be lovely to have a bit of a wash and brush-up first,’ she says. She takes my hand. ‘OK, let’s give it a go.’

  She walks towards the entrance of the hotel. I try to pull her back.

  ‘Mum! We can’t! We haven’t got any money!’

  ‘We can always do a runner in the morning,’ says Mum.

  My heart starts thumping. Is she serious? She marches through the glass door into the hotel lobby. She’s serious all right.

  There’s no one in the hotel lobby. No one at the reception desk. No one. Mum peers around. She looks at the soft purple sofa right in front of us.

  ‘Well, we can always have a kip on that,’ she says. ‘Go on, lie down, darling. You look all in.’

  I stand there, swaying on my feet, and then move unsteadily towards the sofa. I touch it cautiously, like it might be alive – and then I sit on the edge. It feels so good I can’t help leaning back – and then I lie down properly and put my feet up.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ says Mum. ‘Here, budge up, make room for me.’

  But as she comes to join me, a man walks out of a room at the back and stares at us.

  ‘Good Lord, where did you spring from?’ he says. He glares at me. ‘You can’t sleep there!’

  I jump up off the sofa. He peers at the cushions, as if I might have left muddy marks all over them.

  ‘My daughter’s tired. We’d like a room, please,’ says Mum, her chin up.

  The man looks at his watch ostentatiously. ‘Our guests don’t usually arrive at this time,’ he says.

  ‘Well, we’ve been to a party,’ says Mum. ‘And now we’d like a room.’

  He sighs, but turns on his computer. ‘Is it just for one night?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘May I have your credit card?’

  Mum bites her lip. ‘Surely we pay when we check out?’

  ‘Yes, of course, but I need to take your credit card details now.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Mum make a pantomime of checking her bag and her jeans pocket. The man waits impassively. ‘Oh no!’ she says. ‘I can’t find it.’

  ‘Now there’s a surprise,’ says the man.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ says Mum.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid you can’t stay here. Goodbye,’ says the man.

  I grab Mum’s hand. I don’t want her to bluff any more, it’s so awful. But she takes no notice.

  ‘Where on earth can I have lost it?’ says Mum. ‘I’ll have to ring the credit card people in the morning. Can’t we simply have a room for the rest of the night and I’ll sort out all the financial details later, after breakfast?’

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s a strict company rule. Guests have to provide their credit card details when they check in.’

  Mum sighs. ‘Well, can my daughter and I at least use your ladies’ room – or is there a strict company rule that says little girls can’t use your toilet?’ says Mum.

  The man taps his fingers on the desk impatiently. ‘Very well. But be quick about it.’

  We aren’t quick at all. We don’t just use the toilet. We wash our faces in the sink. Mum takes her top off and washes under her arms and soaks her filthy feet. She reapplies her make-up and combs her hair and fixes a fresh new ponytail, and then brushes mine into place too. We don’t have toothpaste or brushes. Mum tries rubbing a tiny bit of soap around her teeth instead but it makes her gag.

  ‘There, we look a bit better now,’ she says. ‘Do you want to wash your feet too, Destiny? Mine feel so much better now.’

  ‘No, Mum. We’ve been ages. That man will come banging any moment. Please let’s go.’

  ‘You’re such a little worrypot,’ says Mum, giving me a kiss on the end of my nose. Then she has to scrub it with toilet paper because she’s left fresh lipstick marks all over it.

  ‘Dear, oh dear, we can’t have you looking like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer when you meet your father,’ she says.

  The man is waiting just outside the door of the ladies’ toilet, looking grim. He pokes his head inside, obviously checking to see we’ve not smeared the sinks or peed on the pristine floor.

  ‘I told you to be quick about it. What were you doing, having a bath?’

  I snigger anxiously, but he’s not being funny.

  ‘Now hop it, both of you.’ He glares at Mum. ‘You’re lucky I haven’t called the police.’

  ‘Oh, is it a crime now to ask for a room in your poxy hotel?’ asks Mum. ‘Don’t you fret, I wouldn’t stay here if you paid me now.’

  She takes my hand and marches out in her high heels, ponytail swinging, while I scamper along beside her.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you don’t think he will call the police, do you?’ I ask.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Destiny. Of course he won’t. Cheer up, darling. We’re here,