Free The Illustrated Mum by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

for supper. You'll fix it, won't you, Star?”
    Star stopped eating.
    “Why? Where are you going?”
    “Oh, I thought I'd just have a little evening out, darling. You don't mind, do you?”
    “No, of course not,” I said quickly.
    “Yes. I do mind.
I
was going out,” said Star. “I'm meeting some of my friends down at McDonald's.”
    “Well, how about if you go out tomorrow? It is kind of important that I go tonight,” Marigold wheedled.
    “It's not fair,” said Star, clenching her fists. Her cookie crumbled all over the kitchen floor.
    I ate mine up in three bites, even though I was starting to feel sick. I hate rows.
    Marigold was doing her best to avoid one. “I know it's not fair, sweetie,” she said, trying to put her arm round Star. Star shrugged her off angrily. “Justthis one little night out. Come on. It means so much to me. It
could
even be important to you too, darling.”
    “How exactly could your going out pubbing and clubbing and getting drunk and making a fool of yourself and picking up strange men be important to me?” said Star.
    Her words buzzed round the kitchen like a swarm of angry bees.
    “Ouch,” said Marigold. She laughed shakily. “Look, Star, this really
is
important. I'm not going to any old pub or club. And I won't get drunk or do anything silly. Look.” She took a ticket out of her jeans pocket and waved it. “I'm going to a concert, see?” She'd pulled the lucky four-leaf clover out of her pocket too. It whirled through the air and landed at her feet.
    “Don't tread on your clover leaf, Marigold,” I said, picking it up for her.
    “Thanks, little poppet. I need all the luck I can get,” said Marigold, kissing the clover and putting it carefully back.
    Star was staring at the ticket.
    “You're going to a concert?”
    “I wanted to take you two girls too, I know you'd love it, even though you tease me about my musical taste, Star. But they're all sold out. I got this one ticket by a lucky fluke. Well, maybe it was the clover leaf, Dol.”
    “What concert is it?”
    “Emerald City. Remember, we saw the poster?”
    “
They're
still playing?” said Star. “They must be positively geriatric by now. Old guys going bald with beer bellies. I'm amazed they're still around.”
    “This is a reunion concert. They've had separate careers for ages. And you never know‘it might be a reunion concert for me too,” said Marigold, her eyes glittering.
    “What?” said Star.
    “Don't you want to meet your father?” said Marigold.
    “Oh, please! Do me a favor,” said Star.
    “Emerald City were his favorite band,” said Marigold. “He'll be there. I just know he will. Micky.” She always said his name reverently, her eyes shining, as if he were the leader of some strange religious cult and she were his chief worshipper.
    She had his name tattooed on her chest, with a swirly Celtic heart beating blackly above her own. Tattooists advise you not to have anyone's name on your body because once it's there you're stuck with it always, unless you laser it away. But Micky's name is engraved forever on Marigold's real heart and no laser in the world could make that ink dissolve.
    “Don't you want to meet your dad, Star?” said Marigold.
    “You're mad,” said Star. She said the forbidden word coldly and deliberately. Marigold flinched. Then she shrugged her shoulders.
    “OK. We'll see,” she said.

STAR
    Star seemed turned into stone. She wouldn't let Marigold kiss her goodbye. I kissed Marigold twice instead.
    “You will come back, won't you? You won't stay out all night?” I said, giving her more quick little kisses. Seven for special luck.
    “Of course I won't stay out all night, silly Dol,” said Marigold. She seemed to have forgotten the other night already. “I'll be back way before twelve, you'll see.” She glanced at Star. “With Micky.”
    She tapped out of the flat in her high heels. She left such a deep silence behind her that we could hear Mrs. Luft moaning