Clean Break by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

standing there all by herself. Her face was grey with the cold and there were snail-trails of mascara down her cheeks.
    â€˜It’s the wind making my eyes water,’ she said, wiping them.
    â€˜Did you see Dad?’ I asked softly, not wanting Gran to hear.
    Mum shook her head. She closed her eyes but the tears still seeped out under her lids. I put my arms round her.
    â€˜He’ll go to the Palace tomorrow,’ I said.
    He didn’t. He didn’t go there the next day or the day after that. He didn’t ever have his mobile phone switched on. There was no way we could get hold of him.
    â€˜I need his address. Suppose there’s some terrible emergency?’ said Mum. ‘Can’t you remember wherethis Sarah lived, Em? What was the name of the road?’
    I thought hard but it was no use. I’d been in such a state of despair and embarrassment I hadn’t taken any of it in. I couldn’t even remember which station we’d got out at, though Mum made me stare at a tube map to try to jog my memory. I stared until all the coloured lines wavered and blurred. None of the names meant anything to me.
    â€˜For God’s sake, Em, how could you be so useless?’ Mum snapped.
    I went off by myself and had a private weep in the toilet. I
felt
useless. I twirled my emerald ring round and round my finger, wishing it was magic so I could conjure Dad from thin air.
    I couldn’t understand how I’d been so mad with Dad on New Year’s Day. Why hadn’t I given him a goodbye kiss? I’d have given anything to kiss him now.
    I knew Vita felt the same way. She was unusually quiet during the day, sitting curled up with Dancer. She went to bed without a fuss and seemed to go to sleep straight away but when I woke in the night I heard someone sobbing. I thought it was Maxie and stumbled out of bed to his little lair. He was huddled up with his bears, breathing heavily, fast asleep. The sobbing seemed to be coming from my own bed.
    â€˜Vita?’ I whispered. ‘Are you crying?’
    She was howling, her head under her pillow. She was wearing Dancer like a big furry glove.
    â€˜Hey, come out, you’ll suffocate.’
    Vita turned away from me, hands over her face, embarrassed.
    â€˜It’s OK, Vita. Here, have you got any tissues?’
    â€˜I’ve used them all up,’ Vita gulped.
    â€˜Hang on, I’ll go and get you some loo-roll.’
    I slipped out of bed again, pulled off a long pink streamer of Andrex and tiptoed back to our bedroom.
    â€˜Is that you, Em? Are you all right?’ Mum called from her bedroom.
    â€˜Yeah, Mum, I’m fine,’ I whispered, not wanting to worry her. It sounded like Mum might have been crying too.
    I got back into bed with Vita and tried to mop her face for her.
    â€˜Get off! I’ll do it,’ she said fiercely.
    When she’d finished wiping and blowing and snuffling I tried putting my arms round her. She didn’t wriggle away.
    â€˜Poor Dancer, you’ve made her all wet,’ I said, feeling her. ‘Have you stopped crying now?’
    â€˜I’m trying to. But I just keep thinking about Dad and how I wouldn’t listen to him and now he’s so mad at me he won’t come and see me—’
    â€˜Rubbish! Dad never gets mad at anyone, especially you, Vita. You know you’re his favourite.’
    â€˜I’m not!’ said Vita, but she sounded hopeful.
    â€˜You’re
everyone’s
favourite,’ I said, sighing.
    Vita gave a small pleased snort.
    â€˜Blow your nose again,’ I said, giving her another wad of loo-roll.
    She tried to blow her nose with her Dancer hand.
    â€˜There now, Princess Vita,’ I made Dancer say. ‘We all come over a little weepy at times. Let me wipe your little nose for you. There now. Shall I tell you a secret?’
    â€˜What?’ said Vita.
    â€˜You’re
my
favourite too. You’re much prettier than boring