Candyfloss Read online

  ‘Can we have a word, Floss?’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Rhiannon.

  ‘Wait for me?’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Rhiannon, but she was drifting off as she spoke.

  I stood at Mrs Horsefield’s desk. She waited until the last child had left the classroom. Then she put her head on one side, looking at me.

  ‘So why are you in such a sorry state? Dear oh dear! Did your mum sleep in this morning?’

  ‘Mum’s not here any more,’ I said, and I burst into tears.

  ‘Oh Floss!’ said Mrs Horsefield. She put her arm round me. ‘Come on, sweetheart, tell me all about it.’

  ‘Mum’s gone to Australia for six months. She hasn’t walked out on me, she’s coming back, she badly wanted me to go with her but I said I wanted to stay with my dad and I do, but I want Mum too!’ I sobbed like a silly baby.

  Mrs Horsefield didn’t seem to mind. She reached into her handbag and found me a couple of tissues, one to wipe my eyes and one to blow my nose.

  ‘We could do with a whole handful of tissues for your shoes too,’ said Mrs Horsefield. ‘So you and Dad are finding it a bit difficult just now?’

  ‘Dad’s going to get an iron. We didn’t have time to clean my shoes. And I’ve lost all my white school socks,’ I wailed.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll get into a routine soon enough. Try to get your school things ready and waiting the night before. Don’t just rely on Dad. You’re a sensible girl, you can sort yourself out. It’s really quite simple – like the maths sum! You worked it out eventually, didn’t you? Well, with a little help from Susan.’

  I blinked.

  ‘Susan’s such a nice girl,’ said Mrs Horsefield. ‘She could do with a friend right now.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I want to be her friend.’ I lowered my voice in case anyone was hanging round the classroom door. ‘We are friends in secret. She’s coming round to my place this weekend. It’s just we can’t be friends at school because . . .’

  Mrs Horsefield raised her eyebrows, but didn’t comment. ‘Oh well, I’m sure you girls will sort yourselves out, given time. Do come and have a little chat with me whenever you’re feeling upset or there’s some little problem at home. I’m not just here to teach you lessons, you know. I’m here to help you in any way I can.’

  She paused, and then opened her desk drawer. There was a big paper bag inside. She opened it up and offered it to me. I saw one of her special pink iced buns with a big cherry on the top.

  ‘Go on, take it,’ she said.

  ‘But it’s not my birthday.’

  ‘It’s an unbirthday bun for a little mid-morning snack.’

  ‘Isn’t it your mid-morning snack, Mrs Horsefield?’

  ‘I think I’ve been having far too many snacks, mid-morning or otherwise,’ said Mrs Horsefield, patting her tummy. ‘Go on, off you go.’

  I took the bun and went out into the corridor. Rhiannon had said she’d wait but there was no sign of her. So I took my pink bun out of the paper bag and ate it all up myself. I especially savoured the cherry.

  10

  DAD WAS WAITING for me when we got out of school. Rhiannon’s mum was standing next to him, obviously giving him advice. He was nodding politely, but when he saw me running across the playground he rolled his eyes, pulling a secret funny face at me.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ he said, giving me a big hug. ‘That woman’s been bending my ear for the last ten minutes. The stuff she was saying! Blooming cheek! She even suggested I try Internet dating to get myself a girlfriend!’

  ‘Oh Dad, you’re not going to, are you?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘There’s only one girl in my life, sweetheart. She’s very little and she’s got masses of curly hair and big blue eyes and she goes under the name of Princess,’ said Dad, whirling me around. ‘Come on, let’s get home. I’ve been shopping!’

  ‘I thought we were short of money, Dad.’

  ‘We are. Desperately. But we might as well spend what little we’ve got.’

  ‘Who’s looking after the café?’

  ‘Billy the Chip is meant to be keeping an eye on things.’ Dad paused. ‘Though I doubt he’ll be run off his feet.’

  There wasn’t a single customer in the café. Billy the Chip was glued to his radio, listening to the races at Newmarket.

  ‘Is Birthday Girl running again, Mr Chip?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t talk to me about that silly filly! She went all flighty and finished second to last,’ said Billy the Chip. ‘Still, let’s see if you can bring me luck on the last race, sweetheart. Here are the runners. What do you fancy?’

  I peered at the list in his newspaper and then stabbed my finger at a name. ‘Iced Bun! That’s the one. I had a lovely iced bun today, with a cherry on the top. Bet on Iced Bun, Mr Chip.’

  ‘It’s a complete outsider, but I suppose I could risk a fiver if you’re feeling lucky.’

  ‘Put a fiver on for me too,’ said Dad.

  ‘All right, I’ll nip down to the betting shop right this minute.’

  Billy the Chip was so old and skinny and frail he couldn’t really nip. He crept in slow motion, having a rest and mopping his brow every few seconds.

  Dad shook his head. ‘Poor old Billy. I don’t know how he keeps going. I worry about him still running that chip van. There are so many yobs in town now, especially late at night. He needs someone there if any of them cut up rough. He’s got a son but he’s in Australia.’

  We looked at each other.

  ‘It’s obviously the in place, Floss,’ Dad said, sighing.

  ‘Who wants to be one of the in crowd?’ I said, taking his hand. ‘I’d sooner be us.’

  Dad squeezed my hand back. ‘You mean all the world to me, little Floss. Now listen here, lovey, I’ve bought a brand-new iron from Argos and five pairs of white socks from the market and a shoebrush and some j-cloths too, so tomorrow we’ll send you off to school super spick and span, I promise. And I’ve got a salad for your tea, and oranges and apples. You’ll be absolutely vibrating with vitamins, the picture of health and beauty! I don’t need that Rhiannon’s mum muscling in. I’m going to be a brilliant dad from now on.’

  ‘You’ve always been a brilliant dad, silly,’ I said.

  ‘No, darling, I’ve been a rubbish dad, in all sorts of ways.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m in a bit of a pickle with the café, Floss.’

  ‘I know, Dad. Don’t worry. I’m sure business will pick up soon. And you’ve got me to help you now. I can be the waitress at the weekend. I promise you can keep all my tips.’

  ‘Oh Floss, you’re such a sweet kid. If only it was that simple. No, darling, I’m afraid I’m down and almost done for. I didn’t spell it out before because I needed to sort out what I was going to do. Only I still haven’t got a clue and time’s running out.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad. Maybe Iced Bun will win its race and we’ll make a fortune!’

  ‘The odds would have to be ten thousand to one to sort things out for me, pet,’ said Dad.

  I tried to work out in my head how much we’d win at those odds. I needed Susan to help me with the maths.

  It was a waste of effort anyway. Iced Bun came in last. Billy the Chip trailed back from the betting shop looking defeated.

  ‘Well, that was a waste of time and money,’ he said.

  ‘I’m ever so sorry, Mr Chip,’ I said, feeling responsible. ‘Let me get you another cup of tea.’

  Billy the Chip smiled at me, patting me on the head with his shaky old fingers. ‘Little Miss Curlymop. You’re a dear girl. No wonder your dad’s so fond of you. Here, I still owe you a birthday present.’

  ‘No you don’t. Birthday Girl came second to last. I’m rubbish at choosing horses, Mr Chip. Take absolutely no notice of me in the future!’

  Dad fixed me my special salad for my tea and then spent hours ironing all my clothes with the brand-new iron. He wasn’t very good at it. The collars kept rumpling up and he pressed odd sideways li