Clean Break Read online

  She blinked at us, scratching her very short hair. Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh dear, Frankie, did you puke?’

  ‘It’s the kids. That’s why we’re here. Poor Em needs a bath.’

  ‘I wasn’t the one who was sick,’ I said.

  ‘But you are the one who needs a clean coat. Sarah, do you have anything you could lend Em?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Oh God, Frankie, I don’t know. I expect so. Look, you kids hurry up and have your bath because I want one too.’ She smiled at Dad. ‘Make me a cup of coffee, eh?’

  ‘Sure, darling,’ said Dad.

  We stared at her, outraged. What was she doing, ordering our dad around? She didn’t seem that much older than me.

  ‘Are you a girl or a lady?’ Maxie asked.

  ‘Neither,’ said Sarah, reaching for a packet of cigarettes and lighting up. She saw me staring. ‘What?’ she said, sounding irritated.

  I looked at Dad. He’s always hated smoking. Mum told us she used to smoke twenty a day but she had to give them up when she met Dad. I remembered her chewing gum desperately for weeks.

  ‘Our dad doesn’t like cigarettes,’ said Vita.

  ‘Well, your dad doesn’t have to smoke them. All the more for me, Em,’ said Sarah.

  ‘I’m not Em!’ said Vita, amazed. ‘I’m Vita!’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Sarah.

  She didn’t seem to care. She was acting as if we were three mangy mongrels making a mess in her flat. She couldn’t be bothered working out which was which. She obviously just wanted us out again as soon as possible.

  ‘Off you go and have your bath then, Em,’ said Dad. ‘Try not to use too much hot water, sweetheart, if Sarah wants a bath afterwards.’

  I ran a minute bath, barely a couple of centimetres of hot water, peeled off my clothes and then clambered in. I felt like a big pink hippo trying to wallow in a small puddle. I washed as quickly as I could. I had to borrow a flannel. I hoped it was Dad’s. It was weird seeing his toothbrush, his razor, his special black hairbrush on the windowsill. Sarah’s eye make-up and black hair dye and funny cakes of soap with bits of petal stuck inside them were scattered all over the place. Her purple and black stripy tights dangled above me from a line across the bath. Her underwear hung there too, but I was trying hard not to look at the horrible wispy things.

  I got out and inspected the towels dubiously. None of them looked very clean. The bathroom floor was all bitty too. It didn’t look as if Sarah ever bothered to vacuum. I thought of Mum rushing around with her hoover every morning because she had to keep our part of the house pin-neat. Gran always expected everywhere to be spick and span.

  I hastily rubbed myself dry and pulled on my own knickers and jeans and socks and shoes. I couldn’t put my Miss Kitty nightie back on because it was all sicky round the neck. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to go back into the main room half dressed.

  Vita tapped on the door. ‘Em, let me in.’

  She was holding a black jumper and a denim jacket. ‘They’re hers,’ she said. ‘She says she needs them back again.’

  ‘What does she think I’m going to do, keep them?’ I hissed. ‘I hate having to wear her horrid clothes.’

  I pulled on the black jumper. Sarah was a grown-up and I was still a child but the jumper was skin-tight on me. I knew it showed off all my plump bits. I covered it up quickly with the denim jacket. Even that was way on the skimpy side.

  I felt my eyes filling with tears. I blinked quickly, hoping Vita wouldn’t see me being such a baby.

  Vita did see, but she surprised me. She reached up on tiptoe and put her arms round me. ‘It’s all right, you look OK, Em,’ she whispered.

  I plucked at the tight jumper. ‘How can she be so little when she’s grown up? Vita, do you think she’s pretty? Prettier than Mum?’

  Vita shook her head so hard her neck clicked. ‘No, I think she’s horrible.’

  ‘Ssh!’

  ‘I don’t care if she hears. What is Dad doing with her?’

  I didn’t have a clue. I went back into the main room, standing there self-consciously.

  ‘Wow! You look fantastic, Em,’ said Dad. Then he looked past me, at Sarah. ‘OK, babe, your bath time now. Then we’ll all go out and get a bite to eat, right?’

  It wasn’t right. It was horribly wrong. Vita could barely wait until Sarah was in the bathroom.

  ‘We want it to be just us, Dad, you, me, Maxie and Em.’

  ‘Oh, come on, sweetie,’ Dad said.

  ‘This is our day, Dad, specially for us,’ said Vita.

  ‘Can’t it be for all of us?’ said Dad, tickling Vita under the chin to try to make her smile.

  Vita glared back at Dad, her pointy chin stuck in the air. ‘No, it can’t!’ she said. She clenched her fists and gave him a pretend punch.

  ‘No, it can’t!’ Maxie copied, hitting out at Dad too. He didn’t know how to pretend and hit Dad hard.

  ‘Hey, hey!’ Dad’s voice went suddenly cold and cross.

  Vita and Maxie stared at him, shocked. Dad didn’t ever get cross.

  ‘Now stop behaving like silly babies, the pair of you. I’ve been longing for you to meet Sarah and this is the perfect opportunity. She’s very special to me.’

  ‘She can’t be that special, Dad. You’ve only been with her since Christmas,’ I said.

  ‘I’ve known Sarah for six months, Em,’ Dad said quietly.

  ‘You’ve known Mum years and years and years,’ I said.

  Dad sighed. ‘I thought you’d understand, Em. Now come on, all of you, let’s lighten up. Stop pouting at me, Vita. Maxie, don’t you dare cry. I know you’re all going to love Sarah when you get to know her.’

  We didn’t get to love Sarah. We loathed her.

  We didn’t get to go to McDonald’s. We went to this posh Italian restaurant. Dad insisted on ordering a plate of spaghetti each for Vita and Maxie though I knew they wouldn’t eat it all. Sarah didn’t eat much of hers either, though she messed around with it a great deal, twirling bits round and round her fork and sucking up strands like a little kid. Dad laughed at her, but when I copied he told me to stop messing around and eat properly.

  ‘Look, you’ve spilled spaghetti sauce all down Sarah’s black sweater!’ said Dad. ‘Em? I’m talking to you.’

  I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t dare take my eyes off my plate in case I burst out crying. Dad didn’t seem to understand how much he’d upset me. He went back to chatting with Sarah. She snuggled right up to him and whispered in his ear. They were like two hateful kids at school ganging up on us.

  I stared at my spaghetti until it blurred into wriggling orange worms. I twisted my emerald ring round and round my finger under the table. I wanted to twist it right off and drop it on the dirty floor. I decided I couldn’t stand Dad any more.

  We went for a walk in a park afterwards. It was cold and drizzling and I shivered in Sarah’s skimpy jacket.

  ‘Oh poor Princess Emerald, you’ve been fated to be frozen all day,’ said Dad, and he wrapped his arms round me.

  I held myself stiffly but he wouldn’t give up. ‘Let’s thaw you out, my lovely,’ he said, cuddling me close. Then he put his hands under my arms and whirled me round and round. Dad’s slim and I’m shamefully big but he treated me like I was as light as a feather.

  Then he held my hand and started telling me about Princess Emerald in Glacier Land. It seemed so real it truly felt as if we were wrapped in rich furs, gliding over shiny white ice, with polar bears lumbering past, seals barking and waving their flippers, and penguins sliding comically on their tummies down the icy slopes into the black sea. My heart melted in this freezing fantasy land and in two minutes I loved Dad so much I was willing to forgive him anything.

  I even tried to be polite to Sarah. She didn’t try to be polite to any of us. She walked along hunched up, her arms wrapped tight round her chest. Maxie tried to run after some ducks and tripped and fell headlong. Sarah didn’t unwrap her arms even