The Illustrated Mum

The Illustrated Mum by Jacqueline Wilson

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Authors: Jacqueline Wilson
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appeared.
    “I want a drink of water,” I said, like a stupid toddler.
    “Sure,” said Micky, pouring me one. “Now, Star and I were just discussing breakfast.”
    “We have cornflakes. But there isn't any milk,” I said.
    “I can go round to the corner shop,” said Star. “I think it opens early on Saturdays.”
    “You can't go out and do the shopping,” said Micky fondly.
    He looked as if he thought she was too little to shop. I wanted to tell him that Star had done the shopping ever since I could remember. She was much better at it than Marigold. I opened my mouth but Star glared at me. She obviously liked him thinking she was just a dumb little kid.
    “I thought we'd go out for breakfast,” said Micky. We blinked at him. You could go out for lunch, outfor dinner. We'd never thought about going out for breakfast before.
    “Where?” I said. Then I suddenly got hopeful. “How about McDonald's?”
    “We don't want burgers, we want breakfast!” said Micky. “I know exactly where we'll go. You two girls get your dresses on. I'll try and wake your mum. She was out for the count when I last looked.”
    We got ready in no time. Star didn't bother with makeup. She wore her black jeans‘to be like him‘ and she tied a black velvet ribbon round her neck.
    “That looks stupid,” I said grumpily. The black on her white skin looked beautiful.
    I wore my own black embroidered top and a black and white checked skirt that Marigold made me from a thrift shop remnant. She'd embroidered black and white yin and yang signs in some of the squares but she'd got fed up before she'd sewn it up properly and so I had to safety-pin it together. I wanted a black velvet ribbon necklace to set off my outfit too but I couldn't copy Star.
    We'd woken Marigold together. She said, “Micky?” even before her eyes were open.
    “He's still here. He wants to take us out for breakfast,” Star said proudly.
    “Great,” said Marigold, swinging her legs out of bed. She staggered as she got up. “Oh God,” she said, clutching her head. “I feel like death.”
    She was a long time showering and dressing andputting on her makeup. When she came into the kitchen at last her face was sickly white, her eyes were bloodshot and her hair hung limply, straggling about her ears. Her cross tattoo still wasn't healing properly and looked raw and scabby. She wore the skimpy sequin top and short skirt she'd had on yesterday. It didn't look right in the morning light.
    I looked at her worriedly. Up until that moment I'd always believed Marigold was beautiful. Now I wasn't so sure.
    Micky was looking at her too, a little crease in his forehead.
    “OK, sweetheart?”
    I tried to feel relieved. Sweetheart. He must really care about her then. Although he said it in a casual offhand way, as if it was what he called all his girls.
    “Right, Star,” he said, putting his arm lightly round her shoulders.
    He said her name specially, as if a real little star sparkled on his lips.
    He had his car outside, a red Jaguar XJ6. Star squealed when she saw it.
    “Oh wow,” she said. “I've never been in a Jaguar before.”
    “Sit in the front with me,” said Micky.
    Star glanced at Marigold. She nodded and put on her dark glasses.
    “Yes, sit beside your dad,” she said.
    Micky chuckled.
    “I can't hear that enough times. Dad! It's so weird too, because this last year or so I've been very conscious of time passing’
    “Like a crossroads!” Marigold said triumphantly, climbing into the car, showing a great deal of her decorated legs. “Oh, Micky, we're soul mates! That's why I had to get the cross. Hey, maybe I'll get Steve to add your name and mine, at the back of the cross? Or maybe in a swirly pattern, joined at each end?”
    “Whatever,” said Micky. “No, what I was meaning, I'd got to thinking how much I'd like to have a kid, seriously wondering about it, though the idea of little puking babies kind of put me off. And now I can't believe my luck!

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