Read Chapter One from Joan Lingard's What To Do About Holly

‘Come on, Holly,’ said her mother, grabbing her free hand. ‘And stop dragging yer feet or you’ll miss yer train.’

‘I’m not wantin’ to go on the train on my own.’

‘Well, you’ll just have to, won’t you? I can’t take you. I’ve my work to go to.’

Queen Street Station was heaving with people. It was late afternoon on a Friday. Half of Glasgow seemed to be there, on the move, coming and going, milling about, heading for the trains. A man jiggled Holly’s elbow and slopped his carton of coffee. He gave her a glare as if it were her fault. She glared back to let him know he couldn’t get away with it.

Sharon, Holly’s mum, kept a firm hold of her hand, tugging her on in the direction of the platforms.

‘What would you do, Sylvie? If you were me?’ asked Holly.

Sylvie wasn’t too keen to go either. The train would be packed. Holly’s mother couldn’t just throw her on board, could she, like a parcel? Especially in front of all those people. She’d get arrested.

‘Mum,’ said Holly, coming to a dead halt, ‘I’m not goin’ unless you come with me.’

Sharon turned to face her daughter. ‘You’re just being

silly. And was that you talking to yer so-called friend again?’

‘She’s not so-called. Her name’s Sylvie.’

‘It’s not right, talking to somebody who’s not there.’

Holly didn’t answer. As far as she was concerned, Sylvie was there, all the time, inside her head, whenever she needed someone to talk to.

Sharon sighed and took a deep breath.

‘You want to see your dad, don’t you?’

Holly shrugged. She could see her mother might snap any minute.

‘You know you do,’ Sylvie reminded her. ‘You can’t wait to see him. You said so.’

‘I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do wi’ you, Holly,’ her mother went on.

‘It’s the goin’ on the train on my own, Mum. Why don’t you come with me?’

‘It’d cost me a full return fare, for a start, and I’m skint. Besides, you know I can’t afford to lose my job. I have to feed and clothe you!’

‘Dad pays you.’

That only annoyed Sharon more. ‘Not for everything he doesn’t.’

‘I could pay for your ticket. I’ve saved up my pocket money.’

‘She doesn’t start work till nine, does she?’ put in Sylvie. ‘And it’s not five yet.’

‘You’d have plenty of time,’ said Holly.

‘I’ve told you, it’d cost me, and I’m not letting you pay.’ Sharon then changed her voice and Holly knew she was going to try coaxing. ‘Listen, luv, you’ve been on the train before. I’ll find a nice older lady for you to sit beside, the way I did last time. Somebody to keep an eye on you.’

‘I didn’t like it but.’

‘No harm can come to you on a train full of folk. It’s only for forty-five minutes. And your dad’ll be waitin’ at the other end to pick you up.’

Holly still didn’t move.

‘Boy, are you stubborn!’ Sharon shook her head. ‘Just like your dad! And as for that stupid Sylvie, it’s time you got rid of her!’

‘She is not stupid! She’s the cleverest girl in her class. And she can play the viola.’

Sharon ignored that. She tried her wheedling voice again. ‘You’ll have a great time with your dad. He spoils you rotten, you know he does.’

‘I haven’t seen him for yonks. I might not recognize him,’ said Holly.

‘Don’t talk rubbish!’

‘That was rubbish,’ murmured Sylvie.

‘For crying out loud – !’ Sharon was about to lose her rag. ‘You’re not a baby any longer. You’re eleven years old!’

‘Just,’ put in Sylvie.

Holly’d had her birthday only the week before.

Her mother carried on. ‘I went on the train to Greenock to visit my Auntie Nessie when I was half your age.’

‘You were a child wonder, so you were,’ said Holly. She’d read that phrase in a book. She picked up a lot of things from books.

‘Don’t you be cheeky to me, madam!’

‘But it was probably illegal, your mum putting you on the train when you were six,’ Holly pointed out, though she knew her mum hadn’t meant it, not exactly.

‘You’ve always got a smart answer, haven’t you?’

‘You’re riling her,’ said Sylvie.

‘I don’t know what’s got into you lately!’ exploded Sharon. ‘Don’t tell me you’re turning into a teenager before your time!’

They were attracting more and more annoyed looks. People kept bumping into them. They were in the way.

‘Come on!’ snapped Sharon, then she yanked Holly forward without looking back. Holly was forced to pick up her bag and her feet and move. Her mum was not going to give in.

‘And she says you and your dad are the stubborn ones!’ tutted Sylvie.

They found their platform. Passengers stood three, four, five deep, waiting for the Edinburgh train. Sharon trawled along, towing Holly behind her, eyeing all the faces, looking for a nice lady. People gave way to let them through but they didn’t look overly pleased about it. Holly kept her head down.

Sharon stopped halfway along the platform, glancing about her. She hadn’t seen a suitable lady yet. She’d know there would be no point in asking any of the youngish business women in black suits carrying briefcases. They didn’t want to be saddled with a child. Sharon pursed her lips and eyed her watch.

Then Holly looked up and saw someone she recognized standing by herself further up the platform. The woman recognized her and smiled and Holly waved back shyly.

‘Who’s that you’re wavin’ to?’ Sharon frowned as if she were trying to remember something.

‘Her name’s Nina Nightingale.’

‘Nina Nightingale? Funny sort of name.’

‘What’s funny about it?’ Holly thought it was a lovely name. So did Sylvie. Well, Sylvie would, wouldn’t she?

‘How do you know her?’ Sharon turned to inspect the woman.

‘Don’t stare at her, Mum! It’s rude.’

‘I’m not starin’. I’m just lookin’. When did you meet her?’

‘She was at our school today.’

‘I thought I’d seen her before! She came out the gate when I was waiting for you. What was she doin’ there?’

‘She came to talk to our class. She’s a writer.’

‘A writer?’

‘My favourite writer. I brought a letter home from school saying she was comin’. I asked you to give me some money to buy a book but you wouldn’t.’ They’d had a row about that.

‘I’d nothin’ to spare, I told you. You’ve lots of books, anyway.’

Holly had bought one anyway, without letting on to her mother. She’d had three pounds fifty of her own saved up and she took the rest out of her mother’s purse when she wasn’t looking. She’d decided it was different from stealing to buy things that were bad for you, like sweets. Anyway, her mother’d had plenty of money in her purse. It was just that she thought there was no point in buying a book when you could get it out of the library for nothing. But Holly had desperately wanted one of Nina Nightingale’s books to keep. And so had Sylvie. Sylvie would have been mad if she hadn’t bought it, especially as it was one of the stories where she was the main character.

‘So you know her then?’ Sharon was looking thoughtful.

‘Well, sort of.’

‘She must be goin’ to Edinburgh. Looks like she’s on her own too. Did she say where she lived?’

‘I think it was Edinburgh.’ Holly was beginning to feel alarmed. Surely her mother wasn’t going to dump her on a famous writer!

‘She looks quite nice,’ commented Sharon. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you. It is only for forty-five minutes after all.’

‘Mu-um,’ wailed Holly, but her mother was already on the move again, saying, ‘Excuse me, excuse me!’ and pushing her way through the crowds as she headed in a straight line for Nina Nightingale.

When they were closing in on the writer Sharon paused to hiss in her daughter’s ear, ‘Now behave yoursel’ when you’re with her! Dinna be letting me down! See and speak proper! You can do it when you want. And keep hold of your ticket! I can’t afford another.’

‘There’s no stopping your mum when she gets going,’ observed Sylvie. ‘She’s like a tornado.’

Holly’s stomach was churning.

‘Excuse me,’ Sharon said again and on reaching the writer tapped her on the arm to get her attention.

Nina Nightingale turned. She looked surprised but she gave Holly another smile.

‘Hello there! You were at my talk. You bought one of my books, didn’t you? And I signed it for you. I seem to remember your name’s Holly? Am I right?’

Holly nodded. Her face felt as if it were on fire.

‘Holly just loves books to bits,’ said Sharon, putting on an accent that she thought was ‘posh’, which made Holly feel even worse. ‘She’s always got her head stuck in one. Sometimes I says to her to away out and play and she says she wants to get on with her book!’

‘Books are good things to love,’ said Nina Nightingale. ‘At least, I think so! But I would, wouldn’t I?’

She laughed and then so did Sharon. Sharon laughed too much, too loudly, as if it was the best joke she’d heard in years. Holly didn’t laugh. She was trying to work out how to escape. It would be difficult to do a runner here with so many people in the way.

‘Anyway,’ Nina Nightingale went on, ‘it was very kind of you to give Holly the money to buy one of my books. I appreciate that.’

‘I always say you can’t spend your money on nothing better,’ said Sharon, avoiding her daughter’s eye.

The passengers were leaning to the left, gazing along the platform. The Edinburgh train had been sighted in the distance.

‘Miss Nightingale,’ said Sharon hurriedly, ‘would you happen to be going to Edinburgh?’

The writer didn’t seem to know what she should say.

‘Mu-um,’ wailed Holly.

‘Well, yes, I am.’ Nina Nightingale looked slightly puzzled.

They could hear the rumble of the train now.

‘I’ve got a problem, you see, Miss Nightingale,’ gabbled Sharon. ‘I wonder if you could help me out? I’m in a bit of a fix.’

‘Mu-um,’ pleaded Holly but her mother ignored her and carried on talking as the noise of the train grew steadily louder.

‘Holly’s dad’s picking her up at the other end in Edinburgh but I can’t go with her on the train ’cos I’ve got my work to go to. Usually I wouldn’t let her go on her own but this is an emergency.’

The engine chugged past them and then came the first of the carriages. The train began to slow and passengers started to surge forward. Holly and her mother and the writer had to step back to get out of their way.

‘If you could just keep an eye on her,’ continued Sharon, her voice almost drowned out by the announcement overhead and the clamour going on all around them. ‘I’d be awfy, grateful so I would.’

‘Well, I suppose,’ began Nina but got no further.

‘Thanks a million, Miss Nightingale,’ said Sharon. ‘You’re a star.’ She turned and gave Holly a quick hug and a kiss. ‘Now you be a good girl and I’ll see you soon. OK, darlin’?’

With that, Sharon fled back along the platform on her spiky four-inch heels, her blond ponytail bouncing up and down. Holly wanted to run after her but didn’t.

It was as if her feet were stuck to the platform.

‘Well, Holly,’ said Nina Nightingale, ‘we’d better get on board, hadn’t we?’

‘I suppose we’d better,’ said Holly silently to Sylvie.

‘We’ve no choice, have we?’ returned Sylvie.

They were the last passengers to board the 5 o’clock train to Edinburgh.