Little Darlings (5 page)

‘Are you all right?'

Mum barely focuses on him. She's still staring into the dark, looking at the long-gone car.

Davie looks at me. ‘Is she with you?'

‘Yes, she's my mum,' I say fiercely.

‘What's up with her?'

‘She's – she's just upset,' I say. ‘It's OK. I'll – I'll take her home.'

‘You want me to call a cab or something?'

‘No, no . . .' Oh, definitely no. We took a taxi from the station to Leicester Square and it cost a fortune. Mum's only got a couple of pounds left in her purse. ‘No thank you, we'll be fine.'

‘Take care then, kid,' Davie says, patting me on the arm too, and then he goes off to join his Milky Star mates, and they all jump into a black stretch limo.

‘Oh wow! Oh my God! Davie talked to you!' this girl gasps, jumping up and down.

‘He's so cute. He's definitely my favourite,' says her friend.

‘He
touched
you – and your mum!'

Mum blinks at them. She's stopped screaming, but she's still mouthing
Danny
.

‘Come on, Mum,' I say, putting my arm round her. ‘Let's go.'

She starts walking obediently. I've no idea where we're going. We walk across this big square, the crowds still jostling, everyone shouting and laughing on their night out. Mum and I are drifting along like a pair of zombies.

‘Mum, do you know which way the station is?'

Mum looks around blankly. ‘I don't know,' she says, shivering. ‘I didn't think – it wasn't meant to happen like this. I was sure we wouldn't be going
back tonight. I thought . . . I thought we'd go off with Danny. I wasn't going to be pushy. I know he's got his other family too, but we've waited eleven whole years. I was sure, once he saw us, he'd realize straight away. Oh, Destiny, he didn't even
look
at us. Didn't he hear me? I shouted and shouted!' She's starting to shout again now, her voice very high-pitched.

‘That woman's drunk, and that's her little girl with her too! Disgraceful!' someone mutters.

I want to punch them. My mum's never been drunk in her life. The most she drinks is a couple of glasses of cava at Christmas. How
dare
they! But Mum
sounds
drunk, shouting and rambling, and she looks drunk too, her eye make-up smudged all over her cheeks and her hair falling down.

I tell myself she'll be all right when we get on the train, but I'm starting to be so scared. It's like Mum's shrunk down into being a little girl and I'm the grown-up now, left looking after her.

We're walking and walking and yet we're not getting anywhere. I wait till I see a crowd of jolly middle-aged ladies, all linking arms and singing songs from
We Will Rock You!
I stop the kindest-looking one.

‘Excuse me, but could you tell me if we're near the station?'

‘I'm sorry, lovey, I'm a stranger here myself. We just came up to see the show – we're on a coach trip. Can't you take a coach home?'

‘We've got train tickets,' I say, wondering if I'm going to start crying too.

‘There's the station just down the street, dear!' a man interrupts. ‘Just follow your nose, you can't miss it.'

I don't really believe him, but I drag Mum down the street anyway, and there it is, the railway station. It's definitely a railway station, but it doesn't look right at all. It's old, with a fancy tower in the forecourt. Mum doesn't seem to notice. I take her hand and we go inside. I hope in a mad kind of way that it will all suddenly transform itself into the
right
station – but it all looks so different, and when I look up at the train departures board, all the names are wrong.

I stop a man in uniform. ‘Please can you tell us which is the train to Manchester?'

He looks at me as if I'm crazy. ‘You can't get to Manchester from here! You have to go from Euston.'

‘Where's Euston?'

‘It's another station. You'd better take the tube.'

He points to where the underground is. We go down stairs and along tunnels, but then there are
machines that won't let us through. I unzip Mum's shoulder bag and find our tickets, but the machine still won't open its gates. Another uniformed man comes and peers at our tickets.

‘No, no, they're just returns from Manchester to London. You need tube tickets too.' He's speaking loudly, as if we're both stupid.

I find Mum's two pounds but it's not enough for both of us.

‘Couldn't we send the money later, when we get home?' I beg, but they won't listen.

I pull Mum away from the ticket office, and in desperation stop the next group coming chattering down the stairs. They're all girls a few years older than me, laughing and larking around.

‘Please, I'm sorry to bother you, I'm trying to get the fare to Euston Station. Could you spare some change?' I ask.

They take no notice and push past as if they haven't even heard me.

Mum's heard though. Her head jerks like she's been slapped. ‘Destiny! Stop it! Don't
beg
!'

‘We've got to. How else are we going to get there?' I say, and I turn to another couple nearby. ‘Please, I'm sorry to bother you . . .' I go through the whole spiel again, but they look disgusted – not with me, with
Mum
.

‘How dare you make your poor kid beg for you!'

‘Look at the state of her! It's obvious she's on drugs. She doesn't deserve to have a child, using her like that. She should be taken away from her.'

I clutch Mum. ‘No, it's not like that! We've just not got enough money for the
tube
. Our train goes from Euston. Show them the tickets, Mum!'

But the man in uniform is coming over to us, looking angry – they're all angry now, and so Mum and I run for it, up the steps into the big wide street. We stand there panting and sobbing.

‘Oh, Mum!' I say, hugging her.

‘It's OK, it's OK,' Mum says, holding me tight. ‘I'm not going to let them take you away.'

She sounds like Mum again and I lean against her.

‘So what are we going to
do
?'

‘Well, looks like we'll have to walk it,' says Mum. She glances down at our shoes. I'm in my trainers but she's in her best white high heels. She's already got sore red patches on both ankles. She wobbles on her heels for another couple of roads, but then she reaches down and takes them off. She's got these nylon pop socks on, with her big toes already poking out. By the time we reach Euston Station at long, long last they are in tatters
and Mum's limping, but she doesn't give a word of complaint.

‘Thank God,' she says as we walk into the station.

At least it's familiar – but strange too. It's nearly empty – just a few lads messing about down one end, an old drunk man mumbling to himself, and a boy and a girl sitting on the cold station forecourt, oblivious to everything.

‘Funny,' says Mum. ‘Where
is
everyone?'

I look up at the departure board. There's nothing there, nothing at all until five forty-five in the morning.

‘Oh, Mum, there aren't any more trains tonight,' I say.

‘Don't be daft, Destiny, there must be trains,' says Mum, but then she sees the station clock.

‘Oh no. You're right. We've missed it.' She takes a deep breath. ‘We've missed everything.'

I'm scared she's going to start shouting and crying again. I hold onto her tightly. I can feel her trembling.

‘What sort of a mother am I?' she mutters.

‘You're a lovely mother, the best,' I say fiercely.

I'm looking all around but there's nowhere comfy we can curl up. We end up sitting on two hard bench seats by the locked-up WHSmith stand.

‘We can't stay here all night,' says Mum, but we have to, we've no other option. We can't find a little hotel because we've no cash and Mum doesn't have proper credit cards any more because she used to find it too tempting to buy stuff, especially for our house. We got into debt, but we're paying it off, and we've kept the house, so we're doing fine. Apart from tonight.

I wish we had proper coats with us – it's so cold now. I nestle up as close as I can to Mum.

‘Put your head on my lap, babe,' she says, so I do. She strokes my hair, gently running her fingers through my ponytail. ‘There now. Shut your eyes. We're not in a manky old station. We're tucked up in a lovely big bed with gorgeous fresh white sheets and it's all dark and quiet, and in a little while you're going to go fast asleep . . .' Her voice is still hoarse from all the shouting but she's my lovely mum again and I listen quietly, lulled. Then her voice falters and I realize she's crying again.

‘Don't, Mum. Go on, tell me more about the bed. You were making it so real.'

She shakes her head, her lips pressed together. ‘That's the trouble, Destiny. I make things up so real that I start believing in them too. That's why we're sitting here, babes. I made myself believe we wouldn't be coming back tonight. Oh, I knew
we'd have to come back
some
time – we wouldn't want to leave our house – but I thought we'd stay with Danny for a bit.' She sobs as she says his name. ‘I thought – oh, Destiny, I thought once he'd seen you and me, once he heard your name, he'd remember, he'd realize. It's time you got to know your own dad, sweetheart. If anything happens to me, he's all you've got and you're his, quite definitely. You've only to look at you: you've got his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his chin, his wild dark hair. You a total Kilman, plain as plain. It's not as if we want to take liberties. He's still with Suzy and I approve of that, it's good he's faithful to her – though I can't quite see the attraction.

‘Anyway, he's got all
her
kids. He's a real family man, you can tell. And
we're
family too – well,
you
are, Destiny, and I thought he'd be desperate to get to know you better. I knew Suzy wouldn't be thrilled, but I didn't know why she would mind so much – after all, I knew Danny before she did, and she's got him all the time now. I didn't see how she could begrudge us a day or two for you to get to know your dad – and I thought how lovely it would be for you to make friends with Sunset, seeing as there's less than a year between you.'

‘
Mum!
A girl like Sunset would never want to be friends with me!'

‘Yes, she
would
. I thought they'd ask us to stay overnight, and you could share Sunset's bedroom. They must have any number of guest rooms where I could bunk down. And then in the morning we'd have one of those really relaxed late breakfasts – lovely fruit and yoghurt and real coffee – and we'd chat for hours and then maybe all have a walk in a London park somewhere and go to a pub, and Danny would ask you all about yourself, and he'd be so thrilled if he heard you sing.'

‘Mum! As if!'

‘Well, you've got a lovely singing voice. You clearly take after your dad – I can't sing to save my life – and you'd tell him about school and how you're always top of the class.'

‘I'm not always top. Raymond Wallis is heaps better than me at maths and science.'

‘I just wanted him to see he's got another daughter to be proud of,' Mum persists. ‘I didn't think he'd ask us to stick around for ever, but I was sure he'd want our address, want to keep in touch, start sending you proper birthday presents – maybe even send you to a posh private school—'

‘I don't want to go to some snobby private school.'

‘Yes, but you need to be educated properly. You're so bright, not like me. I'm dead ignorant, I
know that, but you're my star and I want the best for you.'

‘I've
got
the best, Mum – I've got you,' I say.

‘I'm a dreadful mum,' says Mum. ‘Look at us now, stuck here all night. And look at the scene I made! I don't know what happened, babe. I just lost my head. I couldn't bear it when Danny didn't spot us.'

‘He
did
see us, Mum. He just didn't want anything to do with us.'

‘No, no, that's not true. Well, he might have
seen
us—'

‘And heard us.'

‘Yes, all right, I know I was shouting – but he just didn't recognize us, take in who we were. If only we'd been on our own with him, I could have introduced you all quiet and polite, and then I just know it would have worked.' Mum pauses, winding my hair round her fingers. ‘I know! We'll go to his house!'

‘Mum, stop it. We can't do that. We don't know where he lives anyway.'

‘Yes we do. He lives in Robin Hill – you've seen the pictures in
Hi! Magazine
. Remember I showed you their living room? They were all sitting on this big leather sofa when little Ace was just a newborn baby – and there was that lovely tender picture of Danny holding him in his arms. Oh, I'd have given
anything for Danny to have held you like that! Well, that was their house in Robin Hill. It's only about ten miles from London, I looked it up. We could go there now.'

‘Mum! Stop it! Look, this is crazy. We haven't got any money.
How
can we go there? We can't
walk
. Look at the state of your poor feet already.

‘We could . . . we could hitch a lift. I always used to do that when I was fifteen, sixteen, and needing to get to places.'

‘Mum, please.' I cup my hands round her face, looking into her eyes. ‘Mum, you're going a little bit nuts again. Please stop it.'

‘No, I'm not nuts, Destiny, I'm just trying to make it all come right. I blew it at the cinema, shouting my head off, I can see that now. But we've still got a chance. We can't go back to Manchester right this minute, we've got to wait till the morning, OK – so instead of sitting on our bums here, let's go and find Danny's house and we'll just say hello to him, keeping it very polite and low-key. What have we got to lose?'