Lemonade Sky. Jean Ure

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СКАЧАТЬ this normal?” said Tizz, pulling a face.

      “We’ll go up the road,” I said. “After breakfast. We’ll buy stuff.”

      “What with?”

      “Money!” chortled Sammy. I guess she thought it was a joke.

      “Yeah, right,” said Tizz. “Money.”

      I jumped up. “Let’s look first and check what’s in the cupboard.” There might just be enough to keep us going.

      I pulled out everything I could find and stacked it up on the table. There wasn’t very much. A tin of baked beans, a tin of spaghetti, two tins of tomato soup, a tin of sausages and a tin of pilchards.

      We sat there, staring at them.

      “That’s not going to last ten days,” said Tizz. “Not even if we just have one tin a day. Between us.”

      Sammy was looking worried. “Why’s it got to last ten days?” Her lip wobbled. “When’s Mum coming back?”

      “Soon,” I said, “soon! But just in case – I mean, just in case she’s away for ten days–”

      Ten days, like last time. Sammy’s face crumpled.

      “Where is she? Where’s she gone?”

      “See, we’re not actually sure,” I said. I said it as gently as I could, but there wasn’t any point in lying to her. “You know how sometimes Mum gets a bit, like… excitable? Like when she’s having one of her big happies?”

      Sammy nodded, doubtfully, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

      “It can make her do things she wouldn’t normally do. Like—”

      “Disappearing,” said Tizz.

      “But it’s all right,” I said, quickly. “She’ll come back! It’s just that we have to take care of ourselves while she’s not here.

      “And not tell anyone that she’s gone!”

      I said, “Yes, we’ve not got to tell anybody. Not anybody.”

      That was the mistake we’d made last time. We’d been living over the other side of town, then, in an upstairs flat, and we’d been so scared when Mum went off that we’d told the lady in the flat next to ours, and she’d rung the Social Services people, and they’d come and taken us away. Even when Mum had turned up again they wouldn’t let us go back to her. It had been months before they said she was well enough to take responsibility for us. And all that time me and Tizz had been in a children’s home and Sammy had been with foster parents. That had been the worst part, being split up. We weren’t going to let that happen again.

      We’d still been quite little, then. Too young to look after ourselves. But I was twelve now, and Tizz was ten, and nobody, but nobody, was going to come and take us away!

      “I don’t suppose you remember last time?” said Tizz.

      Slowly, Sammy shook her head.

      “She was only a baby,” I said. “But now she’s big – she’s nearly six! She can be trusted to keep a secret. Can’t you?”

      Sammy said, “What secret?”

      “About Mum not being here. We don’t want people knowing, cos if they know they’ll put us in a home, they’ll say we can’t take care of ourselves. But we can,” I said, “can’t we?”

      Sammy sucked on her thumb. She seemed uncertain.

      “Of course we can!” I said. “We’re not stupid. Just think how proud Mum will be when she gets back and we tell her all the things we’ve done!”

      “Such as what?” said Tizz. “Eating toast and marge and Rice Krispies with marmalade?”

      I scowled at her, over Sammy’s head.

      “I only asked,” said Tizz.

      I said, “Well, don’t! Have a bit of imagination.”

      Tizz hunched a shoulder.

      “Can we stay up late?” said Sammy. “And watch whatever we like on TV?”

      “You’ve got it,” said Tizz.

      She really wasn’t helping. I said, “Maybe just now and again. Not all the time, though, cos that wouldn’t be right. Mum wouldn’t like it if we did that.”

      “Will she be here for my birthday?”

      “She might,” I said. “But if not, we’ll have a big bash when she gets back.”

      “Seems to me,” said Tizz, “before we start thinking about birthdays we ought to find out if there’s any money anywhere.”

      I knew that she was right. If we didn’t have any money, I couldn’t think what we would do.

      First off, we looked in the saucer on the kitchen windowsill where Mum sometimes kept bits and pieces of change. There was a little bit in there. We set Sammy to counting it. Proudly she announced that it came to “£3 and 20p.” Meanwhile, I had £2 in my purse, and Tizz produced a fiver. I said, “Wow!”

      “I was saving it,” said Tizz.

      “That’s all right,” I said. “Mum’ll give it back.”

      Tizz said, “You reckon?”

      I think it must be dreadful to be so untrusting. But Tizz is one of those people, she has a very dim view of human nature. Even though she knows Mum can’t help being sick, she gets impatient.

      “Let’s go through pockets,” I said.

      We went through all of Mum’s pockets, and all of our own, but all we came up with was a 5p piece.

      Tizz said, “Try down the side of the sofa. That’s what they do in books. They always manage to find something.”

      We didn’t find anything at all. Not unless you count an old button, plus a needle that stuck in my finger and made me yelp.

      “Is that blood?” quavered Sammy.

      Tizz said, “Yes, but it’s not yours, so you don’t have to start freaking out! Let’s go and see if there’s anything in Mum’s secret stash.”

      She meant the old Smarties tube where Mum sometimes hoarded 20p pieces. We raced through to Mum’s bedroom and sure enough, in the top drawer of her dressing table, there was the Smarties tube and oh! Hooray! It had something in it.

      We carried it through to the kitchen and upended it. 20p pieces rolled about the table. Greedily, we counted them off into piles.

      “That’s £4.60,” said Tizz.

      It did seem wrong to be taking Mum’s money, especially when I had this unhappy feeling СКАЧАТЬ