Caramel Hearts (11 page)

115 g/4 oz soft butter, chopped into small cubes

2 big fat eggs

50 ml/1½ fl oz creamy milk

1 tsp baking powder

FOR THE BUTTER CREAM ICING

150 g/5¼ oz softened golden butter

½ tsp sweet vanilla extract

275 g/10 oz sifted icing sugar

HOW TO MAKE THE MAGIC HAPPEN

1. Preheat the oven to 180 °C/350 °F/Gas mark 4 and line a 12-cake baking tray with paper cases.

2. Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Make a decent-sized well in the centre of the bowl. Break the eggs into the well, make a wish and add the butter. Beat the ingredients together (an electric mixer is faster, but less fun!) until combined. Pour in half the milk and beat again until the mixture is light and creamy. You can add splashes of the rest of the milk if you need to – but stop as soon as the dough looks gorgeous.

3. Dollop the batter into the paper cases and bake in the oven for 15–20 minutes. You know they're ready when they're firm and light brown on top. Let the cupcakes stand for a minute before moving to a wire rack to cool. When the cakes are cool, cut a circular lid out of the top and set aside (these will be your wings).

4. It's time for the icing! Beat the butter and vanilla extract in a bowl until light and fluffy as air. Add the icing sugar a little at a time, until it is all added and the mixture is smooth and silky. Separate the icing into a few different bowls and add a dab of food colouring to each.

5. Spoon the icing onto the cupcakes. You can mix the icing colours if you like – look at some beautiful butterflies for inspiration and let your creativity fly! Now, slice each top in half and stick into the butter cream icing to add your wings.

For an extra cute touch, add a few candied violet or rose petals as decoration. Or serve on leaf-shaped plates. It's your time to shine.

Chapter Nineteen

Is This a Trick?

As soon as I wake, I take out the recipe book and trace the inscription lightly with my fingertips. After revealing the cookbook to my sister, it feels even more special. Harriet seems to like what I make, and she likes that I have an interest. Maybe it will spark something in Mam when she comes home too? It might even bring us all closer. The idea puts a spring in my stride and, while I'm on a roll, I decide to tell Sarah about the other night with Mad Dog as we walk to school.

“You'd better watch yourself,” says Sarah. “I'm telling you, Liv – I know you think she's OK, but she's two faced. Mad Dog's dangerous.”

“She's acting weird and I don't know how to take her – but dangerous? That's a bit far-fetched.”

I don't mention the way she drew her finger across her throat. Absent-mindedly, Sarah strokes the bruise on her arm – it has spread now it's healing, turning brown and yellowish in colour.

“I don't know why you keep hanging out with her anyway,” says Sarah.

I chew my lip, deciding whether to tell her about Jack.

“What?” asks Sarah, picking up on my hesitation. “Go on – out with it!”

“It's… well… I've been hanging out with Jack more than her.”

Eyes widening, Sarah demands every gritty detail – and although there isn't much to tell, she's suitably impressed.

“I think he fancies you,” she says.

And even though the idea is crazy, the day flies by. Nothing can spoil it. Not even double Maths all afternoon.

“Watch out, Sarah,” I say as we leave Maths class. “Mad Dog's near the exit.”

Sarah's body tenses as she readies herself for the inevitable. “You mean your b-best mate. Can't you put another word in for me?”

“You're not funny.”

“I still can't decide whether you're brave or stupid hanging out with her.”

“She's honestly not that bad,” I say, trying to ignore the image of Mad Dog drawing her finger across her throat. “She's not too different from when we were kids. I think it's just show.”

“It's official. You've finally lost it.”

“She'll get bored of picking on you and move on – you'll see.”

“Fingers crossed,” says Sarah, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

As soon as we step out onto the playground, the gang flocks towards us. Within moments, they have us surrounded – but instead of singling out Sarah, they turn to face me.

“We've been making a list of people who've pissed us off lately, and guess what – you're on it,” says Maddy, poking
me in the chest and shoving me off balance. Then she turns to Sarah and offers a handshake. “Congratulations. You're off the list.”

Neither of us budges. Fear roots us to the spot and we're thinking the same thing – is this a trick? She's not a bestie like Sarah, but Maddy's still a mate, and I've been getting on fine with the others. Sure, she's been territorial over Jack, but I thought we were friendly enough for it to not really matter. Evidently I was wrong.

“What are you gawping at me like that for?” Maddy asks Sarah. “It's good news for you. But your friend here – well, she's a small sacrifice for getting into our good books, don't you think?”

Sarah takes a small, tentative side-step, flinching as Maddy sticks out her arm. I wince too, but Maddy simply cups it around Sarah's shoulders and pulls her round to face me.

“You see,” continues Maddy, chewing loudly on her gum, “we've decided that you've had enough. You've responded well to our lessons, but your friend –
ex-
friend – here, has been sticking her neck out a bit too much for our liking. Thinks she's better than everyone else. So now, it's time for us to teach
the slut
a lesson.”

Sarah doesn't move – and neither do I – as it all falls into place. The chalked message on my path: I should have known. Mad Dog's been looking for something to use as a weapon against me, and I walked right into the trap by talking to Jack. How could I be so stupid?

“Do… do you m-mind me asking… what sh-she's done?”

“Yes, I mind. But you're our friend now. Part of the gang.” Maddy pats Sarah with her free hand, like she's a pet dog. “We reviewed the criteria for enemies. And we…” She gestures towards Emma, Zadie and Lorna, who quickly nod assent. “We decided we're not interested in people with annoying habits any more.”

At mention of it, Sarah's face tenses and her lip quivers.

“Sorry, Sarah, but that stutter of yours is rather annoying.”

Sarah tries to formulate a reply, but the stutter leaves her unable to speak. The gang falls about in fits until Mad Dog silences them with a glare.

“Shut up. We're not after
her
any more.” The girls sober their faces and try to look sympathetic. Mad Dog slaps Sarah's back. “See, that's much better, isn't it? I told you, you're OK now.”

Sarah fakes a thin, cautious smile.

“We've been studying
Animal Farm
in English. It's a great book, you should read it – teaches you a lot about people. So now we're concentrating on people who think they're better than us. People who go around trying to steal other people's blokes. People who are really pigs. Like her.”

Maddy leans towards me and snorts twice, loudly. When I flinch, everyone laughs – except for Sarah.

“Don't you agree, Sarah?” asks Maddy.

“Well, I-I-I'm—”

Mad Dog takes this as a good sign.

“See, pig, your friend agrees with us.” She steps up to my face and grunts again. “Go on, your turn. Squeal, pig.”

I pause, hoping she's joking. Hoping she'll start laughing, like she did that night at the shops, and say she doesn't really mean it. Instead, Maddy checks behind her to make sure no one's watching, then she grabs my arm. Reluctantly, I make a small noise, hating myself for being such a coward.

“Now, say after me, Comrade – I am a ginger pig and I deserve everything I get.”

Typical. My hair is the only feature I like about myself, and now it's getting me into bother. Maddy twists my arm tighter and my elbow starts to burn.

“I-I-I'm—” I stutter, finding it difficult to speak with the pain.

“Ha!” roars Mad Dog. “I-it's c-c-catching. Maybe you're in the clear, Sarah?”

The gang stifles giggles as their leader winks. I chance a glance at my best friend. Her stutter is in full flow. A strange gagging noise sounds in her throat. The harder she tries to control it, the worse it gets, and tears well in her eyes.

“Ha! I guess even I can be wrong sometimes,” says Mad Dog.

The gang let out a few small guffaws, keeping a close eye on Mad Dog's expression. I wish I could vanish. Or spin myself into a safe little chrysalis like the Native American butterflies mentioned in the cupcake recipe. Then I would break free, fly high above the Egerton estates and everyone in them, leaving my troubles behind for good.

An excruciating pain suddenly jolts me out of my daydream, as Maddy kicks my shin.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Say it! I'm a ginger pig and I deserve everything I get.”

I meet Sarah's eyes, before repeating the words slowly.

“Again! Louder!”

I mumble the words a second time. I might be a coward, but I don't want
everyone
to know it.

The gang chuckles. Emma cups her hand over her mouth. It magnifies her amusement rather than hiding it, and some passing kids look in our direction.

“Shush,” says Maddy. “We don't want to attract attention.”

Emma continues to grin, but quietens. Sarah was right all along – Maddy's the leader, not the follower. When she's certain no outsiders are watching, Mad Dog yanks my hair and I cry out in pain.

“Listen to how the ginger slut squeals! Now snort, loudly – for everyone to hear. Show them what a disgusting little ginger pig you are.”

As I perform a series of loud grunts, the group laughs – all except for Sarah.

A small crowd of boys gathers, and a couple of the younger lads start joining in, hissing “Ginger pig! Ginger pig!” So much for not attracting attention! Egged on by the support, Maddy pulls a pair of scissors from out of her pocket. They're small but sharp – the ones used in Art class for cutting card. She lets go of my hair as she waves the scissors in the air for everyone to see.

“The only way to cure a ginger pig is to cut off its hair!” says Maddy, as a grand finale.

Emma and the small crowd of boys gasp, but the other girls don't react. It seems this was planned.

There's only one thing for it. I turn and leg it as fast as I can towards the fence behind the smokers' corner.

Chapter Twenty

I Didn't Know Pigs Could Cry!

By the time I've cleared the fence, three of them have already caught up: Mad Dog, Emma and Zadie. Emma looks uncertain, hanging back behind the others. After a moment, Lorna arrives. She's a strong girl – one of the school's top athletes, with biceps to rival the boys' – and she's dragging Sarah behind her. I try to catch Sarah's eye to plead “don't do this”, even though I know Sarah has no choice. Sarah averts her eyes and stares at the ground.

“Go on, Sarah, make the first cut,” says Mad Dog.

Lorna shoves Sarah forwards, forcing the art scissors into her hands. Sarah freezes, mouth agape.

“I said go on. Unless you want the same treatment.”

Our eyes meet. Sarah's face pales and her eyes fog over as she steps forward, visibly trying to blank out what is happening.

“Hurry up – we haven't got all day!” says Zadie, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Gently, Sarah teases out a small lock of hair and mouths “sorry” as she cuts. I give a single slow blink to show I understand. It also helps me to hold back the tears.

“Is that it? That's hardly teaching the ginger pig a lesson! More!” cries Lorna.

Lorna's not even looking at me. Her eyes are on Mad Dog, making sure she's saying the right thing.

Sarah takes another, larger chunk of hair, and snips again. It falls to the ground in wisps, like smoke. I hold my breath, hoping that's enough, but I doubt Sarah's halfhearted efforts will satisfy the gang. Mad Dog straightens to her full height, a triumphant look on her face.

“OK girls, scissors out!” she orders.

To my horror, every one of them except Emma has a pair of scissors hidden. They round on me and start grabbing at my hair, pulling and twisting and cutting. I flinch and cry out. There's no way you can act hard with scissors so close to your face. I try to protect my head with my arms, but it's no use. Someone pushes me to the ground, pulling my arms behind my back, so I shove my face into the dirt for protection. It smells of mud and grass and fear. When there's a pause, I glance up to see Sarah's shoes turn and run. Those times I abandoned Sarah – I had no idea how lonely it felt. I want to run too, but I stay put. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I'm pressed so tightly to it, I imagine it almost possible.

The crowd of boys arrives on the scene, along with a few girls. Maddy no longer seems to care about attracting attention. She seems to be enjoying being in the limelight.

“Remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No argument must lead you astray,” Mad Dog calls out, quoting from
Animal Farm
. “Keep going till I tell you to stop!”

As instructed, the girls start cutting again, growing more feverish in their efforts as the seconds – which seem like hours – tick by. My hair tumbles to the ground in chunks. The scissors snag again and again, and it feels like I'm
being torn apart by giant birds. I wonder if the torture will ever end. As hot tears drip down my face, I feel wet mud smear my cheeks.

“I didn't know pigs could cry!” yells Mad Dog.

Zadie stops, seemingly moved by the tears, but Maddy and Lorna keep going.

“I think you should stop now,” says Emma in a weak voice.

“Yeah, she's had enough,” adds Zadie.

A few of the onlookers wander off, but some stay to watch as Maddy sticks the boot in for good measure. Winded, I cough and splutter, holding my stomach. Over the embarrassing sounds I'm making, I hear a voice call out, “Oi! Pack it in!”

Mad Dog makes a strange whimpering sound and backs away, Lorna quickly following. When I catch my breath and dare to peek, I see Jack, his eyes sparkling with fire.

“What the
hell
do you think you're doing?” he says. “Get away, all of you!”

The crowd disperses. Only Maddy and her friends stand their ground.

“We're teaching the pig a lesson. Animals need to be reminded how to behave now and again,” says Lorna, looking to Maddy for backup.

Only Maddy's face is flushed bright red and she's lost for words, unable to look Jack in the eye. Her scissors hang limply by her side as he stares at her icily.

“The only animals I see here are you lot.” He snatches the scissors from Maddy and snips them a few times in mid air. “Maybe you need a reminder too?”

My heart is pumping so fast it feels like it'll burst out of my chest. No one has ever stuck up for me like this.

“Jack, it's just a misunderstanding,” blurts out Maddy. “There's no need for us to fall out.”

She smoothes her hair and pulls a sweet smile.

“A misunderstanding? Are you nuts? No wonder people call you Mad Dog behind your back.”

Maddy's face crumples, but she composes herself quickly.

“That's just people being mean. I haven't done anything to…”

But she can't even finish her sentence. The evidence is clear. She's been found out.

“I can't believe I always defended you,” says Jack, shaking his head. “I should have listened… Come on, Liv.”

As he helps me to my feet, Maddy looks from Jack to me and screws her face into a scowl.

“You can't be serious…” she says.

She lunges at me, but Jack reaches out and snips the scissors in her direction, catching a few stray ends. The blonde strands whirl on the breeze, feather-like. Sweat glistens on Maddy's cheeks, dampening her hair so it sticks to her face. Her mascara has smudged, and a small trickle of black runs from the edge of one eye. I think –
not so attractive now, are we?
– but I'm careful not to be caught looking.

“I'll get you for this, Jack Whitman. When my father hears about it, he'll—”

“What?” asks Jack.

“He'll see that you get hurt.
Real
hurt.”

Jack just shakes his head pityingly and wraps his arm around my shoulder to lead me away.

Mad Dog's eyes glass over. The corners of her lips quiver and she looks close to tears, but manages to hold
it together. I'd feel sorry for her if she hadn't just tried to scalp me.

“Don't think this is finished,” she says, and spits at me. “You'd better watch your back.”

“I'll be watching it for her,” says Jack.

My heart is still thumping as Mad Dog and her gang stomp off, quickly disappearing out of view. I reach up to my scalp to check the damage and can't help gasping. There are clumps of hair sticking out all over and a glob of Mad Dog's spit coats my fingers. I burst into tears – snot running down my face and everything. Jack tightens his grip around me, and helps me away from the scene.

“It's 19 Box Lane, right? Come on, I'll take you home.”

I wonder whether he'd been this kind to Mrs Snelling the day that she'd fallen, and the thought makes me sob even more. My head is spinning, so I have to lean on Jack for support. I notice a string of snot has lodged itself on his jacket and discreetly wipe it away.

When we reach my front door, Jack insists on coming inside.

“I'm not leaving you until I know you're OK.”

“I'll be fine. Harriet will look after me.”

“Let's check she's in first.”

Rather than fussing on the doorstep, I decide it's a good idea to let him in. I'm not giving Pauline the opportunity to grass me up to Mam. But as I try to turn my key in the lock, it jams – there's a key on the other side. I knock loudly on the door, dreading Harriet's reaction. There's no answer, so I knock again. The door swings open a moment later, but it isn't Harriet. It's Mam.

“Sorry about that, sweetie, I didn't mean to lock you out,” she drawls. She has a burnt-out cigarette stub
dangling between two fingers and she's wasted. I'm too ashamed to look at Jack. “I've run away from the circus. I'm home for good!”

If she notices my tear-stained face or scarecrow haircut, she doesn't say anything. She sways in the doorway, her eyes glazed and slightly wonky. Then, just when I think it can't get any worse, she latches onto Jack.

“Ooh, hello handsome,” she says, and tries to grab his bum.

I drag her away just in time. She keeps turning back, blowing kisses to Jack and giggling. I wrestle her into the living room and yank the door shut, holding it firm against her pathetic attempts to tug it open from the other side.

“Quick – upstairs,” I say.

Jack doesn't need telling twice.