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Bad Girls, Page 2

Jacqueline Wilson


  ‘The trunks are kept up in the loft, see. It is true, I swear it is,’ I insisted.

  ‘Um, you shouldn’t swear on it,’ said Melanie. ‘Because I know it’s all a lie. When your mum came round to collect you when you were at my house, she had a cup of coffee with my mum and she went on and on about you, and how she’d had all this yucky fertility treatment for ages and they’d given up all hope of ever having a baby and she said they’d tried to adopt but they were too old but then your mum suddenly started you. “Our little miracle baby.” That’s what she said. My mum told me. So you’re a liar!’

  ‘Liar!’ said Kim, but for some strange reason she still looked impressed. Her eyes flickered and I almost dared hope that she’d stop now, that she’d let me go.

  I don’t know whether I moved or not, edging one half-step sideways. But it was half a step too much.

  ‘Oh, no, you’re not going just yet, Mandy Miracle-Babe Loony-Liar,’ said Kim.

  ‘Liar,’ said Melanie, her head nodding.

  ‘Liar, liar, pants-on-fire,’ said Sarah.

  They all giggled at the word pants.

  ‘Yeah, what colour pants have you got on today, Mandy?’ said Kim, suddenly tugging at my skirt, whipping it up.

  ‘Stop it, stop it,’ I said, frantic, clutching it.

  But Kim still saw.

  ‘Oh how sweet,’ she said ‘White with little weeny rabbits on! To match the itsy-bitsy bunnies Mumsie knitted on your cardi.’ She flicked the rabbits with her long hard fingers. ‘Poor Mumsie, knitting and knitting for naughty Miracle-Mandy – when she goes round telling everyone she’s adopted! Mumsie’s going to be soooooooo upset when she finds out.’

  I felt as if she’d flicked a hole right through my stomach.

  ‘How will she find out?’ I said hoarsely.

  ‘Well, we’ll try asking her. Tomorrow, when she comes to collect you. “How old was Mandy when you adopted her, Mrs White?” I’ll say, and she’ll say, “Oh, Mandy’s my own little girl, dear” and I’ll say, “That’s not what Mandy says, she swears she’s adopted”,’ said Kim, her eyes gleaming.

  Melanie and Sarah giggled uncertainly, not sure whether Kim was joking.

  I was sure she was deadly serious. I could see her saying it. I could see Mummy’s face. I couldn’t stand it.

  ‘You’re wicked, wicked, wicked!’ I shouted and I slapped Kim’s face hard.

  She was a lot taller than me but my arm reached up of its own accord and my palm caught her cheek. It went bright red, though her other cheek was white. Her eyes went even darker.

  ‘Right,’ she said, and she stepped forward.

  I knew I was for it now. I shoved Sarah out the way, I dived past Melanie, I dashed out into the road to get away from Kim because I knew she was going to kill me.

  There was a big blur of red and a shriek of brakes. I saw the bus. I screamed. And then I fell.

  ‘Mandy! Oh my goodness! She’s dead!’

  I opened my eyes.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ I said shakily.

  Arthur King was bending over me, his glasses lopsided, his mouth lopsided too, gaping open in shock. More people gathered in a ring around me. One woman knelt down beside me. They were all in a fog. I blinked, but everything stayed blurred.

  I struggled to sit up.

  ‘No, dear, you must lie still until the ambulance gets here,’ said the kneeling woman. ‘The bus driver’s phoning for one now.’

  An ambulance! Was I badly hurt? I twitched my arms and legs. They seemed to move about normally enough. I felt my head to see if there were any bumps. My hand hurt as I lifted it, pain tweaking up to my elbow.

  ‘Just take it easy, dear. Now then, tell me your name and address so we can let your mother know,’ said the woman.

  ‘She’s Mandy White. She’s in my class at school,’ said Arthur King.

  ‘Were you one of those wicked children chasing her?’ said the woman indignantly. ‘I saw! I was right at the front of the bus and I saw them chase her into the road. She could have been killed.’

  ‘I thought she was killed,’ said Arthur, shivering. ‘I should have stopped them.’

  ‘It wasn’t you,’ I said. I looked up at the woman. ‘It wasn’t him.’

  ‘It wasn’t the boy, it was those girls,’ said someone else.

  Everyone turned round. But Kim and Melanie and Sarah had gone.

  ‘Tormenting her. And she’s only a little kid too! How old are you dearie, eight?’

  ‘I’m ten,’ I said. ‘Eleven next month, actually.’

  ‘Where do you live, Mandy?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Fifty-six Woodside Road. But please, I’m OK, you don’t need to tell my mum. She’d get ever so worried. And she’s not at home anyway, she’s at the dentist,’ I said, trying to sit up again.

  I still couldn’t see properly. Then I suddenly realized why.

  ‘My glasses!’

  ‘I’ve got them here, Mandy. But they’ve snapped in two,’ said Arthur. ‘Shall I put them in your pocket?’

  ‘How’s the little girl?’ said the bus driver, steering Arthur King to one side and bending down beside me.

  ‘I’m all right,’ I said shakily, worrying about my broken glasses.

  ‘The ambulance should be here any minute. You look OK to me, but you need to get checked over. They’ll take you to the hospital and someone will let your mum know.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ said the woman, nodding.

  ‘No,’ I said, and I burst into tears.

  ‘There, now. It’s the shock.’

  ‘I feel like I’m in shock too,’ said the bus driver. ‘They all suddenly charged into the road, this little one, and then them others, and there was nothing I could do. Lucky job I’d slowed right down because I was nearly at the bus stop. I just bumped her, though. I think she fainted, I don’t think she was knocked out.’

  ‘I thought she’d died. She just dropped and she didn’t move,’ said Arthur, and his bony fingers felt their way past the kneeling woman and the bus driver and found my hand. ‘Don’t cry, Mandy. You are really going to be all right, aren’t you?’ he said.

  I couldn’t stop crying to say anything and my hand was starting to hurt so much I couldn’t even squeeze his fingers. They elbowed him right out of the way when the ambulance came and then I was carried away, even though all I wanted to do was to run home. I tried to stop acting like a big baby, crying like that. I didn’t have a hankie and my nose was running horribly right down to my lip, but the kind ambulance woman gave me a tissue and she put her arm round me and told me to cheer up, chicken. She even made clucky hen noises to make me laugh.

  Then we got to the hospital and I got scared again because I’d never been in hospital before, and when you see it on television there are always people shouting and covered in blood, and tables where they open you up and there are all your insides glistening in jelly.

  Only it wasn’t like that a bit. There was just a waiting-room and a lot of people sitting on chairs. I was put in a little cubicle and a nurse came to talk to me because I was on my own. Then a doctor came and prodded me and shone a light in my eyes, and then I was taken to be X-rayed and that didn’t hurt a bit though I had to keep still. The radiographer told me how the X-ray machine worked and I asked some more questions and she said I was a clever girl. I was almost starting to enjoy myself. Then I went back to the cubicle to wait for the X-rays to be developed and suddenly I heard Mum calling. Then she came rushing into the cubicle, her face grey, her cheek all puffy from the dentist’s injections.

  ‘Oh, Mandy!’ she said, and she scooped me into her arms.

  It was stupid, but I started crying all over again, and she rocked me as if I was a real baby.

  ‘There, now. It’s OK. Mummy’s here.’

  I burrowed against her soft front and smelt her warm toast-and-talcum smell. I felt so bad about telling Kim and the others that she wasn’t my real mum that I cried harder.

  ‘Hang on, poppet. I’m
going to get a nurse. They must give you something to stop the pain. You never make a fuss like this, you’re always such a brave girl.’

  ‘No, don’t go. I don’t need the nurse. It doesn’t hurt much, really. Oh Mum, I’ve broken my glasses! I’m ever so sorry.’

  Mum didn’t mind a bit about my glasses, even though they’d cost a lot of money. ‘We ought to be able to Superglue them OK,’ she said. ‘I wish we could fix your poor old arm as easily! I’m sure it’s broken.’

  It turned out it wasn’t broken at all. I just had a bad sprain, so they bandaged it up and put it in a sling.

  ‘There. All done,’ said the nurse, folding up the ends of the sling neatly. ‘Don’t jump under any more buses, young Mandy.’

  I smiled politely but Mum looked fierce.

  ‘She didn’t jump, she was pushed,’ said Mum.

  The nurse wasn’t paying proper attention as she rolled bandages. She smiled as if Mum were joking.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ Mum burst out. ‘It’s a very serious matter. She could easily have been killed!’

  ‘Mum!’ I hissed. She sounded really cross. I’d never heard her be so rude to anyone before.

  She put her arm round me to help me, and yet her own arm was shaking.

  ‘Come along, Mandy,’ she said, and she whisked me out of the cubicle and down the corridor so fast our shoes squeaked on the polished floor.

  There was a bus stop right outside the hospital but Mum got us a taxi instead. I could only remember going in a taxi a couple of times before. If I wasn’t so worried I’d have enjoyed sitting back pretending to be posh.

  ‘The little girl been in the wars, has she?’ said the taxi driver. ‘Kids! When our two were that age we were forever up in the casualty. They keep you hanging around forever, don’t they?’

  ‘And when I got there I found my daughter all on her own,’ Mum said furiously.

  ‘I had a nurse talk to me before, Mum. I didn’t mind,’ I said.

  ‘And they didn’t even think it sensible to keep her in overnight in case of concussion,’ said Mum.

  ‘But the doctor looked in my eyes and checked me all over,’ I said.

  ‘Well, as soon as we get home I’m calling out Dr Mansfield and we’ll see what he thinks,’ said Mum.

  She made me go to bed when I got in, though I kept insisting I was perfectly all right. She had to help me get undressed because it was so awkward managing with my arm in a sling – and it was my right arm too, which made me much clumsier trying to manage with my left.

  Mum fixed me a special sick-bed tea, on her best black tray patterned with orangey-red poppies. The food was orange too: orange yolk in my boiled egg, orange satsumas, orange shreds in her home-made carrot cake and orange juice to drink.

  I scrabbled under my pillow for Olivia Orang-utan. I collect monkeys. I’ve got twenty-two now. Some are really old and were Mummy’s monkeys when she was a little girl. There’s a huge great gorilla almost as big as me that Daddy gave me last Christmas. I like them all, but my favourite is Olivia. She’s only as big as my hand and she’s very soft and very hairy and very orange.

  I tucked her in beside me and fed her some of my orange treat tea. When we were both finished I gave her a little ride in my sling.

  ‘Mind your arm!’ said Mum. ‘That sling is so you can rest it. Don’t jiggle it around like that.’ She sat down on the side of my bed, looking very serious. ‘Now, sweetheart. I want you to tell me exactly what happened.’

  My heart started pounding under my nightie. I clutched Olivia with my good hand. I looked down at the empty dishes on the poppy tray.

  ‘You know what happened, Mum. I ran out in the road. And the bus came. I’m sorry, I know I should have looked first. I won’t ever do it again, I swear I won’t. Don’t be cross.’

  ‘I’m not cross with you, Mandy,’ said Mum. ‘Now, tell me why you ran out into the road.’

  But the doorbell went, distracting us. It was Dr Mansfield, who’d just finished his evening surgery. He was nice at first and he admired Olivia and all my other monkeys, and he complimented my bandage and sling too, saying Mum had done a very professional job.

  ‘The nurse at the hospital did it,’ I said, and then Dr Mansfield got very irritated with Mum, saying that there was really no point in him examining me if I’d already been treated at the hospital.

  I got all knotted up inside while they argued. I slid further and further under the covers, wishing I could snuggle right underneath and play caves with my monkey collection. I didn’t want to resurface even after Dr Mansfield went because I knew Mum was going to start asking questions again and I didn’t know what to say. So I pretended to be sleepy and said I wanted to have a little nap.

  Mum usually thought little naps a good idea but now she started feeling my forehead and asking if my head was hurting. I sussed that you feel sleepy if you get concussion. I started to worry whether I did have it after all, because I really was starting to get a pain in my head. I got scared and Mum got scared too, though she kept telling me that I’d be fine and I mustn’t worry.

  Then we heard the car outside and it was Dad back from London. He came running up the stairs when he heard the tone of Mum’s voice. He never looks quite like Daddy when he’s in his stripy office suit. He always has a shower and changes into his fisherman’s smock and baggy old trousers the minute he gets in, and it’s as if he’s screwed on a new happy-old-Dad face too. But now he forgot all about changing. He sat on my bed while Mum said all this stuff. She started calmly but her voice got higher and higher and when she told how she came back from the dentists to find a woman waiting on her doorstep to tell her I’d been in an accident, she burst into tears.

  ‘Don’t, Mum!’ I said, starting to cry too. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m really all right now, I think my headache’s just an ordinary one, and my wrist doesn’t hurt at all, so don’t cry, please.’

  Dad put his arms round both of us until we’d both quietened down. Mum went off to make us all a cup of tea, still sniffling. Dad gave me an extra cuddle.

  ‘Just so long as you’re safe and sound, poppet. Don’t worry about Mum. She’s having a bit of bother with her nerves just now, and she’s having to have all this horrid root canal work, and now you bump into a bus, old girl! Poor Mum. Poor Mandy.’

  He made Olivia wipe my eyes with her soft paws and I was laughing by the time Mum came back to my room with the teatray. I hoped it was all sorted out. But then Mum started on about what the woman had told her, all this stuff about me being chased by these girls, and Dad sat up straight, and I knew there wasn’t going to be any more laughing.

  ‘Which girls chased you, Mandy?’ said Dad.

  ‘It’s those three again, isn’t it?’ said Mum. ‘Melanie and that really nasty big girl and the showy little girl with the curls. I can’t understand how Melanie can be so horrid, she seemed such a nice girl, and I really got on well with her mother. I’m going to phone her up and—’

  ‘No! No, you mustn’t!’ I said.

  ‘Of course we’ve got to have this out,’ said Mum. ‘Their mothers need to be told. I should have tackled this right from the start when they turned on you. And we’ll have to go to the school too and tell your teacher—’

  ‘No! You can’t!’ I said desperately.

  ‘Now, now, calm down, Mandy. Hey, you’re spilling all your tea. Why are you getting in such a state? Have these girls really threatened you? Have they made you keep it all a secret? Are you really scared of them?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Of course she’s scared, the poor little thing. So scared she ran right into the road. Oh dear, when I think what could have happened! She could have gone right under the bus and—’ Mum was getting tearful again.

  ‘Mandy, you’ve got to tell us exactly what these girls did,’ said Dad.

  ‘They didn’t do anything!’ I said frantically. ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep going on about it. And you mustn’t tell their mums or anyone at school or else—’

 
; ‘Or else what, pet?’ said Dad.

  ‘They’ll all hate me,’ I wailed.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mandy, how could anyone ever hate you?’ said Mum. ‘You’re a lovely girl. All your teachers always say you’re a pleasure to have in their class. I suppose those girls are just jealous because you always come top and you’re obviously well loved and cared for. I know Melanie’s mother was very worried that her divorce had badly unsettled Melanie. But still, that’s no excuse for bullying, chasing you right out into the road.’

  ‘It wasn’t Melanie, it was Kim—’ I sobbed.

  ‘Ah. Which one is she?’ said Dad.

  ‘That big girl – the one who looks much older than her age. I’ve always thought her a nasty piece of work. I’ve heard her say some silly things behind my back,’ said Mum. ‘So what was she saying to you this afternoon, Mandy?’

  ‘I – I can’t remember.’

  ‘Now then, sweetheart, it’s quite important that you try,’ said Dad. ‘We’ve really got to get to the bottom of this, even though it’s upsetting. She does frighten you, this Kim, doesn’t she? Does she ever hit you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Are you sure, Mandy? She’s so much bigger than you. And when she was chasing you, are you certain she didn’t push you?’

  ‘No, she didn’t, I swear she didn’t,’ I said. ‘Look, please, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  I had Mum on one side of me, Dad the other. I felt smothered between them, and there was no getting away, no stopping their questions.

  ‘I know it’s upsetting for you, pet, but we’ve got to know,’ said Dad. ‘Why were you running from them?’

  ‘I just – I just wanted to get home.’

  ‘But what were they saying?’ said Mum.

  ‘I said, I don’t remember!’ I shouted.

  ‘Mandy?’ They were both looking at me, so serious, so sorrowful.

  ‘Come along, Mandy, we’ve never had any secrets in our family,’ said Mum.

  ‘You can tell us anything,’ said Dad.