Jelly Baby

I liked that she could laugh about Dad reversing into her. Not everybody would. She was obviously a very tolerant, good-natured sort of person. Not someone who would lose patience with Dad when he couldn’t find his front-door key or forgot to put petrol in the car, both of which had happened in the past week. I decided that Caroline was exactly what he needed!

I was glad, though, that Cass had spoken up in defence of my skirt. Just for a minute I had started to feel a bit self-conscious, thinking that maybe it was indecent or something. I knew it couldn’t be, or Lottie’s mum would never have let Lottie buy one. As mums go, she is quite strict. But I didn’t want Caroline to think badly of me. At school recently we’d been discussing role models and I’d decided that that’s what Caroline was – my role model. She was so smart, and so cool, and so … sophisticated! I really wanted to make a good impression on her.

Em stuck her head round the door and said, “Shall I start bringing things in?”

“I’ll help!” I went racing after her into the kitchen. “I suppose you went and told her?” I hissed.

“Told her what?”

“About me saying it was chicken and mushroom!”

“All I said,” said Em, “was are we supposed to be telling her the truth or not? OK? Here! Take the sprouts. And don’t go dropping them.”

“Oh, this looks very tasty,” said Caroline, as we all took our places. The pie sat steaming in its dish, the top all beautifully brown and crusty, with little pastry roses decorating it. Cass had gone to such a lot of trouble.

“I hope it meets with your approval,” she said, passing Caroline a plate. “I don’t want to mislead you … it’s not actually real chicken.”

“It’s not?” said Dad. He sounded a bit put out. “Bitsy? I thought you said it was!”

Em looked at me, rather hard.

“Just for once,” said Dad, “it might have been nice.” He turned apologetically to Caroline. “I’m afraid I live in a house full of mad veggies,” he said.

“You’re one too!” cried Em.

“Not through choice,” said Dad. “They bully me, you know. I have no say in the matter, I just have to eat what I’m given.”

“I’m sure it will still be delicious,” said Caroline.

I kept shooting little glances at her as she ate. I think she enjoyed it. At any rate, she cleared her plate. She didn’t come back for seconds, though. I did! But I am quite a greedy sort of person. You don’t get to be as slim as Caroline by gorging yourself.

Triumphantly, as Cass began to clear away the dishes, I said, “If you hadn’t been told it wasn’t chicken I bet you wouldn’t have known, would you?”

“Well … I think I probably would have done,” said Caroline, “but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t very lovely.”

“But how could you tell?” I said. “It looks like chicken.”

“I suppose it doesn’t quite … taste like it.”

“Chicken tastes of blood,” said Em.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Dad threw up his hands. “Do we have to?”

“I’m just saying,” said Em. “It’s full of stale blood.”

“Em!” Cass jerked her head. “Help me take the dishes out.”

I jumped up. “I’ll go and get the pudding!”

I was so proud of my possets. I carried them through triumphantly on a tray.

“Bitsy made these herself,” said Cass.

“Ah, the famous possets!” Dad rubbed his hands. “They always go down well.”

I said, “Yes, cos it’s real lemon and real sugar and real cream.”

“What else could it be?” said Em.

“Could be soya cream.”

“Oh! I never thought of that. Maybe next time—”

“No.” Dad snatched a couple of pots and handed one to Caroline. “Don’t go and ruin a good thing.”

“I just thought—”

“Not now,” said Cass. “Let Caroline enjoy her pudding.”

As soon as I started on my posset, Bella appeared. With one bound she was up beside me, nearly pulling the tablecloth off in the process.

“Good gracious,” said Caroline. “A cat on the table?”

Dad frowned. “Bitsy, put her down.”

“Dad!” Em looked at him reproachfully. “You know we don’t say that. She’ll think we’re taking her to the vet to be …”

“Murdered,” I said.

“Euthanised,” said Dad.

“It means the same thing!” Em was getting quite worked up. “Just don’t say it.”

Em is very protective where Bella is concerned. Well, with all animals, really. She is going to be a vet when she grows up.

Dad shook his head, like, What can you do? “Just put her on the floor,” he said. “We don’t have cats up here while we’re eating.”

I opened my mouth to object cos, I mean, Bella is used to joining us on the table no matter what Dad said, but Cass, sitting next to me, gave me a warning jab.

“Just do what your dad says.”

I set Bella on the ground. She immediately jumped back up again.

Dad said, “Bitsy …”

I said, “Yes, all right! She just wants a bit of posset.” I dug out a blob with my finger and gave it to her to lick. She purred appreciatively. “Lemon possets are one of her favourites,” I said. “She’d live on them if she could!”

Caroline said, “Really? It surely can’t be good for her.”

“It’s the cream,” I said. “Cats love cream.”

“But it’s so fattening! No wonder she has a bit of a tum.”

It was true, I suppose. Bella’s tummy does sometimes wobble slightly as she walks.

“She’s not fat,” I said earnestly. “It’s mostly fur. Feel!” I held Bella out to her, but Dad intervened.

“I did tell you, Bitsy, to put her on the floor.”

“I’ll put her on the sofa,” I said. “She’ll be happy there. When we first had her,” I told Caroline, “we called her Belle o’ the Ball. Now Dad says she’s Bella the Ball! But she does have very thick fur.” I added this quickly before Em could give me another of her looks. Bella is mainly her cat and she won’t let anyone say anything bad about her.

“Well, now,” said Cass, “if everyone’s eaten enough I’ll go and put the coffee on. Bits, do you want to give me a hand?”

“Caroline hasn’t finished!” I said. She’d only eaten half her posset.

“No, no, I’m through.” Caroline pushed her plate away from her. “It was lovely, but I’m just too full up after all that pie.”

“I don’t think she liked it,” I whispered to Cass as we went through to the kitchen.

“Oh, she’s just worried about putting on a few extra kilos,” said Cass. “She’d probably have been far happier with a glass of water and a couple of grapes. Peeled.”

I gazed at Cass doubtfully, not sure whether she was being serious or just joking.

“Stop looking so woebegone!” Cass gave me a hug. “She’s a very figure-conscious lady … I bet she won’t take either milk or sugar in her coffee! Go and check with her.”

I skipped back into the sitting room to see Caroline lowering herself into one of the armchairs. As she did so, she gave a little squeak.

“Ooh, what’s this?”

Gingerly she slid her hand down the side and held something up.

“Oh!” I said. “My dividers! From my geometry set. I wondered where they’d gone.”

Dad, rather crossly, said, “For goodness’ sake, Bitsy! You really must be more careful. That could have caused a nasty accident.”

Embarrassed, I muttered that I was very sorry.

“Not to worry,” said Caroline. “No harm done. Tell me, as a matter of interest, why does everyone call you Bitsy when your name is Flora?”

Em said, “Hah!”

“You can tell her,” I said, “if you want.” She was obviously bursting to.

“OK! It’s cos once when she was little,” explained Em, “Dad asked Cass if we had any bitter chocolate. He said he really fancied some bitter chocolate. So Cass said we didn’t have any cos, like, nobody had ever asked for it before, so Flora goes toddling off and comes back all triumphant with two squares of Cadbury’s milk saying, ‘Look, Dad, bit o’ chocolate!’”

“And she’s been Bitsy ever since,” said Dad fondly.

“Well, it’s a sweet story,” said Caroline, “but I’m going to call her Flora. I think it’s a pity to have such a pretty name and not use it! Like Emily. That’s another pretty name.” She smiled at us. “Emily and Flora! How about it?”

“You can always try,” said Cass.

“I intend to!”

I wondered how I would feel about being called Flora after being Bitsy for so long. Everyone called me Bitsy! Well, not teachers, of course, but everyone in my class. Maybe if I was Flora I would have a bit more dignity, instead of just being a small round person that no one took any notice of.

After Dad had left to take Caroline home, we all sat round discussing how the evening had gone. Had it been a success? Sadly, we came to the conclusion that it hadn’t.

“I know she didn’t like her pudding,” I said. “Anyone that really enjoyed it would have gobbled up the whole pot. They wouldn’t be able to help it!”

Cass sighed and said she probably hadn’t enjoyed her mock pie, either. “It was a big mistake. I should have given her real meat.”

“But this is a meat-free zone,” said Em.

“But she was our guest!”

“I just don’t see how anyone could tell that it wasn’t real meat,” I said. “Not if they hadn’t been told.”

“Course, you know what really didn’t help?” said Em. “Someone going and leaving half their geometry set down the side of the chair. Imagine if she’d got stabbed in an artery!”

“Well, but she didn’t,” I said.

“She could have done.”

“Well, but she didn’t.”

“To think we spent all that time tidying up,” sighed Cass. “How did we manage to miss it? And then letting that cat jump on the table!”

Em immediately sprang to Bella’s defence. “You can’t blame Bella! She always jumps on the table.”

“You didn’t have to go and feed her.”

“I didn’t feed her!” Em sent me a venomous stare. “She did.”

“Well, she shouldn’t,” said Cass. “It’s not good for her. You heard what Caroline said … she’s getting fat.”

“She is not!” Em snatched Bella off the sofa and cradled her lovingly in her arms. “She’s just right!”

“I don’t care, she still shouldn’t be on the table. And we shouldn’t have to spend hours tidying up. The place should never be allowed to get in that state to begin with. What on earth must she think of us?”

We were all very crestfallen. Normally we’d have left the washing-up till morning, but for once, without even having to be asked, me and Em got started on it straight away, while Cass cleaned up the kitchen. After that, still rather subdued, we went to bed. Em was clutching Bella; I for some reason was clutching my geometry set. I was going to have nightmares now, thinking of Caroline being stabbed in an artery.

In fact I must have fallen asleep the minute my head touched the pillow and gone on sleeping all night, cos the next thing I knew, it was morning and Em was telling me to get up.

“Dad has something he wants to discuss with us … something important. About Caroline!”

“I’ve had a word with Cass,” said Dad. “Now I need to have a word with you two.”

We both turned wonderingly to Cass in search of clues.

“It’s all right,” said Cass. “You don’t have to look so apprehensive! It’s actually something quite exciting. OK, I’m off to work; Becky’s expecting me at the shop. I’ll see you all later.”

Dad waited until Cass had gone, then very solemnly told us to sit down.

“This is important. I need your full attention.”

Something exciting, Cass had said. For one mad moment I had this fantasy that we had won the lottery and that Dad was going to ask us how we thought we should spend the money.

“OK! Right. Now! How would you feel,” said Dad, “about Caroline moving in?”

We gaped. I could feel my mouth dropping open.

“You mean, like … to live with us?”

“To live with us. Yes!”

“She wants to live here?” said Em.

“As part of the family.”

“You mean … she’s not cross with us?”

“Cross?” Dad seemed puzzled. “Why should she be cross?”

“About Bella jumping on the table?” I said.

“And nearly getting stabbed in an artery,” added Em.

“And not liking her dinner.”

“Oh, now, it wasn’t as bad as that,” said Dad. “It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, just that she’s not used to vegetarian food. We should have discussed it! I don’t think it would have hurt to bend the rules just this one time.”

Em opened her mouth to protest, but Dad rushed on. “As for the other things – well! They were just unfortunate. But no harm done, and of course she wasn’t cross! She’s not the sort of person who gets cross. If she were, she’d have been pretty cross with me reversing into her, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” said Em.

“At any rate,” said Dad, “it hasn’t put her off. It’s something we’ve been talking about for a while now. The people she’s renting her flat from want it back, so …” Dad giggled. He did! He giggled. I’d never seen him so happy and excited. “It seems like the ideal opportunity. What do you reckon?”

Em and I sat there at either end of the sofa, not sure what to say.

Em found her voice. “What does Cass think?”

“She’s fine with it,” said Dad. “But I’m more anxious to know how you feel.”

Earnestly Em said, “We just want you to be happy.”

“Yes, but I want you to be happy,” said Dad. “After all, we’re a family.”

“Will it mean you’re going to get married?” I said.

“That’s the plan! If all goes well. And I can’t see any reason …” Dad came over to sit between us on the sofa. He put an arm round each of us, pulling us close. “I can’t see any reason why it shouldn’t. We all seem to get along all right. Don’t we?”

We assured him that we did.

“Well, then!” Dad sat back, beaming. “Let’s give it a go, shall we, and see what happens?”

On Monday, at school, I told Lottie about Caroline coming to live with us. Lottie was all ears! She knew about Caroline. Me and Lottie always tell each other everything.

“So that’s it,” I said. “She’s moving in.”

Lottie’s eyes went big as dinner plates. “Living with you?”

“Cos the people that own her flat want it back. Well, and cos she and Dad think it’s a good idea.”

“Does that mean they’ll get married?”

“Prob’ly.”

Lottie said, “Cool! Then you can be a bridesmaid.”

“If all goes well,” I said.

Lottie gazed at me, head to one side, her nose sort of scrunched. It’s what she does when she’s trying to figure things out, like, Why shouldn’t things go well? She has this really tiny little blob of a nose like a lump of Play-Doh. It makes her look seriously silly!

“D’you want them to?”

“To get married?” I thought about it. Did I want them to? I did for Dad’s sake. It was just that it was a bit strange, after all this time, the thought of having a stepmum. Cos that’s what she would be! And then what about Cass? If Caroline was our stepmum, where would that leave Cass?

“Don’t you like her?” said Lottie.

“I do like her! She’s really nice. Like, she didn’t get mad when Dad reversed into her?” Or when she’d sat on my dividers. “Most people would have been absolutely furious.”

“My mum would have been,” said Lottie. “She nearly got road rage the other day just cos someone cut her up.”

“Well, this is it,” I said. “Dad needs someone that’ll put up with him. You know how hopeless he is.”

Lottie giggled. “Like that time he was going round with his glasses on top of his head, complaining he didn’t know where he’d put them? And that other time he took us to the shopping centre and forgot where he’d parked the car and we all had to walk round for ages looking for it?”

Lottie and I have been friends ever since Year Three. We were in Year Seven now. She knew Dad pretty well.

“So will you be happy,” said Lottie, “if they get married?”

I said, “Yes, cos Dad will be.”

“What about that other person?” said Lottie. “The one you used to think he’d marry.”

I said, “Polly.”

Polly was lovely! And she knew all about history, same as Dad. She was actually a bit like Dad, in some ways. Hugely clever, but not very practical. We’d had loads of fun with Polly! She’d even come with us on holiday once or twice. Cass always used to say that she and Dad were made for each other.

“What happened?” said Lottie. “Has he gone off her?”

“No! It’s just that he’s known her so long. She’s like an old slipper. Sort of … comfortable.” That was what Cass had said. She said the moment had come and gone. “And now he’s met Caroline and she’s just, like, really cool! Like a model or something? She even has these shoes that are by that designer man!”

“What designer man?”

“One that makes these really expensive shoes?” Not being into fashion I couldn’t immediately think what his name was, but Cass had been well impressed. “Must have cost a fortune,” she’d said.

“Sounds a bit posh for your dad,” said Lottie.

“She’s not posh,” I said. “Just super-cool!”

“H’m.” Lottie hooked her arm through mine as we wandered back into school at the end of break. “You know what’d be really neat? If your dad could marry my auntie!”

She’d said that before. I never quite liked to tell her that it wouldn’t work.

“My auntie’s cool,” urged Lottie.

“Yes,” I said, “I know.”

Lottie’s auntie is very small and fluffy and dresses like a teenager. She looks like a teenager. She is into dancing and karaoke, and going down the pub, which wouldn’t suit Dad at all. He is very much a stay-at-home-with-his-books sort of person. I don’t think Lottie’s aunties ever read books. Polly read loads! She and Dad were always lending books to each other and having these long discussions. Now he would be doing it with Caroline. At least, I supposed he would. I didn’t know what Dad and Caroline talked about when they were alone together.

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