Fortune Cookie by Jean Ure Page B

just…”
    â€œWe don’t want to upset your mum.”
    â€œThis is it,” said Cupcake. “She’s got enough to worry about.”
    â€œLet’s go and tell her!”
    Cupcake’s mum seemed a bit doubtful when we said we were going to do a sit-in. “You’re trying so hard, both of you, but we’re still only a quarter of the way there! And your friends have been so good, I’m not sure you should ask them for any more money.”
    â€œMum, it’ll be all right!” said Cupcake.
    â€œHonestly,” I said, “they like supporting good causes.”
    â€œBut we need over £200! I’m seriously beginning to think – ” she dropped her voice to a whisper, even though Joey was in another room – “I’m seriously beginning to think we shall have to call it a day. It’s not even as if I could borrow the money – I’d simply never be able to pay it back. And the longer it goes on, the more unfair it is on Joey. And on Cookie! I’m so, so sorry, girls, after all the effort you’ve put in. It’s entirely my fault; I should havestood firm right at the start. It would have been easier for all of us.”
    â€œMrs Costello, please ,” I said. “We’re going to get the money, I promise!”
    Cupcake’s mum shook her head. She said, “Oh, Dani, I don’t know. That poor little dog is in pain, and—”
    â€œAnd Joey loves him!” cried Cupcake. “And he loves Joey! You can’t separate them, Mum. You can’t!” She marched across the room and flung open the door of the lounge. “Look!” Joey and Cookie were cuddled up together on the sofa, watching television. Well, Joey was watching television. Cookie was curled nose to tail, blissfully quivering in his sleep.
    Joey looked across at us and beamed. “Cookie’s having dreams!”
    I thought for a truly terrible moment that Cupcake’s mum was going to burst into tears. I know the signs! I don’t cry very much myself, but when I do my lips start kind of rippling and my eyes go all shimmery. I said, “Please, Mrs Costello! We can do it, I know we can!”
    â€œJust one more day,” begged Cupcake. “That’s all we need.”
    Cupcake’s mum hesitated, then said all right, she would give us till the end of the week. “After that—”
    She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. She rushed out of the room, and I knew that this time she really was crying. It’s very disturbing when grown-ups cry; you don’t expect it of them. They are meant to be the ones in control. I find it quite scary.
    Joey had seen that his mum was upset, and that made him upset as well. He wanted to know what he had done. We told him that he hadn’t done anything, but he grew angry and banged his fist on the arm of the sofa, shouting, “Cos of me! Cos of me!”
    â€œJoey, it isn’t!” I said.
    He gave me such a look. When I sat down next to him and tried to cuddle him, he flailed with his arms, pushing me away; he struggled to his feet and tried to go after his mum, but his legs wouldn’t carry him, which made him scream with frustration and punch outat Cupcake as she went to his aid. She was anxious to assure me afterwards, as we took Cookie for a walk round the block, that “Joey isn’t really like that!” As if I didn’t know. I told her there was no need to explain, but she obviously wanted to. She said that Joey was getting weaker all the time.
    â€œThere’s things he used to be able to do just a few months ago that now he can’t. He knows it makes Mum unhappy, and he feels it’s all his fault!”
    â€œAt least we’ve got the money for Cookie,” I said. “That’s something!”
    Cupcake said it was more than just something. “It’s the most important thing we’ve ever done in our whole