The Dead Ex(6)

The next step was to fall off carefully so that she didn’t hurt herself. ‘Make sure you cry loudly,’ Mum had told her. ‘When the other person helps you up, use the confusion to do a quick swap.’

This was more complicated than the swing game. ‘It takes a real pro like you to do it,’ said Mum.

Scarlet wasn’t sure what a pro was, but it sounded good. Especially as Mum often gave her a shiny pound coin in return for bringing back the tenners. Sometimes she was allowed to touch the notes after Mum had done her counting. They were as crisp as autumn leaves.

But the best game of all was hide and seek. They did this in the shopping centre. Scarlet liked this most because it was warm in the winter and also because Mum came with her. It made her feel safer.

First they’d do something called a decoy. This meant trying on new clothes without buying.

‘Give us a twirl,’ Mum would say when the assistant came to the changing room to see if she could help. ‘Pretty girl.’

Then Scarlet would look at herself in the mirror and flick back those braids with the little red beads and wonder once more why her skin was darker than Mum’s. Mum said it was because her father had come from a place called Trinny Dad.

‘Where’s my dad now?’ she’d sometimes ask.

But the answer was always the same. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care. We’re happy enough on our own, aren’t we?’

Back to the game. One day, an older woman had come up to them in a shop and told Mum she was a ‘model scout’. ‘Your little girl would be perfect.’ But Mum had said they didn’t want any of that and had rushed her out of the doors. ‘We mustn’t attract attention,’ she explained. It almost spoilt the game. But not quite.

After they did some more trying on, Mum would leave. Scarlet would burst into tears. This was called ‘role playing’, said Mum. But you spelt it with an e: r–o–l–e instead of r–o–l–l.

Then one of the assistants or maybe another customer would ask if she was all right.

At exactly that point, a woman would come rushing in. Scarlet had to pretend she knew her. ‘There you are, love. Your mum’s fallen ill, so she asked me to come and get you.’

The next bit was tricky. As they were walking out, the woman would hand her a tissue. After she’d blown her nose, Scarlet would put it in her pocket. Then the woman would tell her to hand it back so she could throw it away. But Scarlet would give her a different tissue back. The first tissue had a whole ￡50 note in it, which she would then give to Mum. And the second had a little plastic bag in it with white powder.

Once the game almost went wrong when an assistant asked the strange woman for identification.

‘What do you think I am?’ she’d demanded. ‘A child snatcher? Go on, Scarlet, love. Tell her!’

‘This is my Auntie Julie,’ Scarlet said, remembering what Mum had told her.

And the assistant had gone all pink and said she was sorry but you couldn’t be too careful nowadays.

That’s why they had to make sure they didn’t do the tissue swapping bit anywhere near a See See TV camera.

But then came that Wednesday.

Usually Wednesday was Scarlet’s favourite day of the week. You could choose whatever book you wanted from the library and read it on your own in class while the teacher did some marking. It was nearly always shouty, because the other kids didn’t like reading and got into fights instead. But Mum had taught Scarlet to shut everything out.

You had to do that on the estate. The people in the next flat were always thumping the walls with their fists or screaming or playing loud music. But a book took the noise away, especially if there were pictures. Once, when there weren’t any, Scarlet drew her own on the page. It was the only time the teacher had got cross with her.

Once, she and Mum had played the hide-and-seek game in a massive shop called Sell Fridges. It sold a lot of other things too, and was in a posh part of London, ages away from Hackney. Scarlet almost forgot to pretend she was lost because of the lovely clothes that felt so soft. ‘One day,’ said Mum, her eyes bright, ‘we’ll be able to afford stuff like this.’

But that particular Wednesday felt all wrong, because Mum hadn’t wanted her hair stroked or to sing along to the radio like she usually did. She also got cross because they had run out of bread. ‘It’s all right,’ said Scarlet, even though her stomach was rumbling. ‘I’ll just wait for lunch.’

(The other children called it ‘dinner’, but Mum said that wasn’t right.)

‘That won’t help. You’re not going to school.’

‘But it’s library day and News Story Hour.’

‘Forget it. We’ve got to do the swing game today. Don’t look like that. If we finish quickly, you might be able to go in late. Just tell them you were at the dentist’s.’

‘But I said that last time.’

‘Then we’ll pretend it was the doctor’s. OK?’

‘They’ll ask me for a letter.’

‘I’ll do you one later when we’ve got more time. Now stop arguing and do what I say.’

Scarlet shivered, and not just because it was cold. ‘Wear this,’ said Mum, handing her a big, fluffy yellow fleecy jacket.

‘Wow! It’s just like the one we saw in the market.’ The market was one of her favourite places. You could get anything there.