The Suitcase Kid by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

feel . . . wonderful. I can’t believe it. Was it all a dream then – all that about leaving Mulberry Cottage and you having Bill and Dad having Carrie and . . .?’
    â€˜I think you’re still half asleep, pet. Come on, let’s have tea, we’re all hungry.’
    Mum takes my hand and leads me into the living-room. Dad’s sitting at the table, smiling at me. There’s a big bunch of our own pink roses in a pretty white vase, and there are little fairy cakes with pink icing and white rosettes and the newly-baked mulberry pie, dark wine-red juice bubbling up through a crack in the golden pastry and filling the whole room with the rich fruity smell.
    Mum cuts me a huge slice and tops it with vanilla icecream. I bite into hot and cold, crunchy and smooth, sweet and sharp, and close my eyes with the bliss of it.
    â€˜Mmmmm,’ I say, and Mum and Dad laugh.
    â€˜Doesn’t Radish want some too?’ says Mum.
    â€˜Radish?’ I say, and there she is, safe and sound, tucked up in my pocket, half asleep too.
    Mum lets me fetch a doll’s-house saucer and a china thimble and Radish eats and drinks with us.
    â€˜But wait. This is the thimble I swopped with Aileen ages ago,’ I say, puzzled.
    â€˜Well, you must have swopped it back again,’ says Mum.
    â€˜And maybe you’ll get swopping yet again because I’ve got a little surprise in my pocket for you and your Radish,’ says Dad.
    â€˜A present!’ I jump up and run to Dad.
    â€˜Oh darling, you do spoil her,’ says Mum.
    â€˜I like spoiling both my best girls,’ says Dad, and he gives me a present out of one pocket and Mum a present from the other.
    Mine is a small square cardboard box and inside is a tiny Radish-size gilt table and chair, and sellotaped safely to the table top is a tiny pink china cup and saucer and plate, delicately edged with a wisp of gold paint. Mum’s present is in another cardboard box and it’s a proper size pink china teacup and saucer with cherubs flying all round the rim, and a little message inlooping writing at the bottom of the cup. The message says ‘I love you’. Dad says it too. Mum goes as pink as her cup and they give each other a long kiss. Radish and I grin at each other. We are all very pleased with our presents.
    We eat up the pie and icecream and every one of the fairy cakes and then we all do the washing-up together, making it a game. Dad keeps flapping the tea towel and I put my fingers on my head to make horns and rush around pretending to be a little bull and Mum makes out we’re getting on her nerves but she keeps laughing, and we’re still all in a giggly mood when we go back into the living-room, as if it’s a special day like Christmas.
    We switch on the television and my very favourite film
The Wizard of Oz
is just starting and so Mum and Dad and Radish and I all cuddle up to watch it. I’ve got my red slippers on and Mum and Dad keep calling me Dorothy and I turn Radish into Toto and make her give little barks. We sing along to all the songs and at the end of the film when Dorothy clicks the heels of her ruby slippers and whispers ‘There’s no place like home’ I suddenly start crying.
    â€˜What’s up, darling?’ says Mum.
    â€˜Don’t be sad, little sausage,’ says Dad.
    â€˜I’m not sad. I’m crying because I’m so happy,’ I say, sniffling.
    â€˜You funny old thing,’ says Mum, and she pulls me on to her lap for a cuddle.
    When the film finishes I climb on to Dad’s lap instead and he reads me a story, lots of stories, from all the story books I had when I was little.
    â€˜But they got lost somewhere, I’m sure they did,’ I say.
    â€˜Well, we found them again, specially for you,’ says Dad, giving me a kiss.
    â€˜You don’t mind reading me such babyish stuff, Dad?’
    â€˜You’re our baby, aren’t