Dad frowns the moment I say the name Milky Star. 'Stupid little kids! They prance about on YouTube and suddenly they think they're stars. I thought I was doing them a favour, giving them a helping hand, when all the time they were taking the mickey.'

'Dad, this girl . . . she was dressed like me, in my new clothes, black jeans and T-shirt and little mittens. She looks like me, but better'

'Rose-May led me right up the garden path, but I'll show her. No one's making a monkey out of me.'

'Dad, listen, this girl in black with the mittens she's your daughter, I know she is, and she's lovely, and if you'd just say you'd meet her her and her mum I know just how happy it would make them. Please say you'll meet them.'

'Will you quit this nonsense!' Dad takes hold of me, a hand on each of my cheeks so I'm forced to look right at him. 'I don't have any secret mystery kids!'

'But she says'

'I don't give a stuff what she says. There are hundreds of mad fans out there, and they all say I've fathered their wretched kids. It's just a scam, Sunset, a way to get their hands on my money. So stop playing these pathetic little games about sisters. You've only got one sister and that's Sweetie and I wish to God you were more like her.'

9.

DESTINY.

Dear Sunset,

Everyone's getting all het up because it's the talent contest TOMORROW!!! I kid on I'm not the slightest bit bothered, but actually I'm just a bit scared too. We do the contest to the whole school in the afternoon, and it will be awful if they don't like me and shout, Off, off, off! so I don't even get to finish my song. There's a panel of schoolkids too, one from Year Three, one from Year Four, and two from Year Five, and I'm not sure they'll vote for me either because I'm not in any gang and the boys mostly don't like me at my school not that the girls do either. They have to make comments on our performance. Imagine the fun they're going to have, making us feel like idiots. I shall just have to sing so well they'll give me a high score even if they hate me. I'm a bit worried about the Jack the Lads and the Superspeedos they're two rival street-dance acts, and they're both looking quite sharp now. Mind you, they've had a LOT of help from Mrs Avery, our PE teacher, which isn't exactly fair. She's choreographed their entire acts. Well, I suppose Mr Roberts tried to help me a bit, giving me all these daft suggestions, wanting me to stand in a certain way and jiggle around when I start the chorus honestly, totally cheesy ideas. I'm not taking any notice. I'm just going to sing it my way.

But it's not the school performance that's really getting to me, it's the contest in front of all the adults in the evening. There's going to be a panel of teachers judging that. My mum's coming and she's so excited about it, much more worked up than I am. We've been allocated two tickets I suppose it's one for our mums and one for our dads. Imagine if our dad came to the show!

Love from Destiny

I put the letter in an envelope, write the address and seal it and then undo it all over again because I'm fussing about that last sentence. I meant it as a joke, but what if Sunset takes it seriously? What if she thinks I'm hinting to her to get Danny to come? Was I hinting? Oh wow, it would be so incredible seeing him there in the audience. Mr Roberts would wet himself. 'Are you. . . Danny Kilman?' he'd go, and Danny would toss his long hair and shrug and say, 'Yeah, just come to hear my kid sing.' Actually I'm not sure I could sing a single note with Danny in the audience. Think of all the other kids too! After the show I'd take Danny and say, 'Right, Dad, I'd like you to meet my friends,' and he'd say hi to Jack Myers and Angel and all the rest, and they'd practically pass out on the spot.

Like any of this could ever happen! He didn't seem the slightest bit interested in Mum and me he just ignored us, couldn't even crack a smile. He doesn't sound that friendly a father to Sunset. And her mum's horrible. Perhaps Sunset's not so lucky after all. I do like her though, ever so. I cross out the dad bit on my crumpled letter and scribble instead, I wish you could come and hear me sing, Sunset. Pity we live so far away from each other.

And now it's the day of the concert, I know it the moment I wake before I even open my eyes. My heart starts thudding. I tell myself I'm mad to get into a state over a silly little school concert. As if I care about this school or anyone in it. But I care about my mum and I care about me, and this is our song, and I have to make it special. My throat dries and I clutch my neck anxiously, wondering if it's sore, whether I've got some cough or cold bug and won't be able to sing. I get up and go in the bathroom and clean my teeth, gargling for a bit, and then I try out my voice as I have a quick bath, and it's fine perhaps a bit husky, but it'll do.

I get dressed in my usual burgundy rubbish school uniform, but I pack my black outfit and my beautiful leather jacket, carefully wrapped up in a soft towel in a laundry bag. Mum's back early from her cleaning and catches me before I leave for school.

'Hey, babe, how are you doing?' she says, dashing in. 'All set for your big day?'

Then she catches sight of my bulging bag. 'What's that?'

'Well, I can't sing in my uniform, Mum.'

'Yeah, I know, but . . .' She opens the bag. 'Oh, Destiny, not your jacket! You can't take that to school.'

'I'll look after it, Mum. Believe me, I'm not going to let it out of my sight. But I need that jacket. I have to sing in it.'

'But if one of them kids gets their mucky little fingers on it'

'Just let them try! I'm wearing it this afternoon and you'll see me in it this evening.'

'I can't wait, babes! I'm so proud of you. Singing in front of a packed audience, just like your dad! I'm so thrilled you've got Danny's talent.'

'I don't want to take after Dad, I want to take after you,' I say, giving her a hug.

She feels so thin and she's burning.

'Mum, you're so hot! You haven't got a temperature, have you?'

'What? No, of course not. I'm just a bit worked up, that's all,' says Mum.

I look at her worriedly. She's got dark circles under her eyes. I don't think she's sleeping properly. Her eyes look so big, as if they're about to pop right out of her head. She looks permanently anxious now. I wish I could stop her being so worried all the time.

'If I really do take after Danny then I'm going to be a big rock star, right and do you know what I'm going to do?' I say, cuddling her.

'What's that, babe? Are you going to buy a lovely big mansion like Danny's?'

'Yep, and guess who's going to live in it with me?'

'Who's that, darling?'

'You, silly! You'll live like a queen. You'll have a whole suite of rooms, and one of those four-poster beds you like, much better than that one Steve got you, with wonderful velvet curtains and real silk sheets, and you can sleep in every morning because you won't ever have to do any work again no cleaning, no sad old folk, no drunks down the pub you can just lie back like a lady of leisure.'

'Oh, darling, that would be lovely,' says Mum. 'But just now I've got my old dears to change and feed and water and you've got school. Good luck this afternoon, Destiny. You sock it to them! And for pity's sake, look after that jacket!'

This is harder than I'd thought. I lumber the laundry bag all the way to school going the long way round, of course and because I'm not as nippy as usual I arrive a minute or two after the bell has gone. It doesn't really matter. The teachers are mostly glad you've turned up at all but as luck would have it, Mr Juniper is hovering at the door, officiously recording in the late book.

Mr Juniper is a tall weedy guy fresh out of training college. Maybe it was a training college for Serious Young Offenders, because he's sooo strict. He yells at everyone, getting so worked up that froth forms on his lips and you have to stand back or you'll get sprayed. He's always dishing out detentions, trying to make you stay after school. You just know he would so love it if teachers were allowed to whack us with a cane like they did in the old days.

'You! What's your name?' he shouts, starting to froth already.

'Destiny.'

'Destiny?' He pulls a ridiculous face. 'You are not telling me that's your name?'

'Yes. Is that a problem?' I say. How dare he patronize me just because I've got an unusual name.

'Don't you use that tone with me! Destiny what?'

'Destiny Williams.'

'Well, Destiny Williams, you're now down in my late book. You will lose a form point.'

I don't give a stuff about form points but this infuriates me even so.

'I'm only a minute late, Mr Juniper!'

He consults his watch. 'Five minutes and thirty seconds,' he says.

'Well, half of that time I've been here at school talking to you.'

'Stop answering me back in that impertinent way! You'll get a detention if you're not careful. Now on your way to your classroom, quick sharp.'

I walk off briskly, dragging my burden.

'What are you doing with that ridiculous bag?' he shouts after me. 'That's not a proper school bag.'

'It's my clothes for the concert this afternoon.'

'Well, you can't possibly drag them around with you all day. Unpack them and hang them up in the cloakroom.'

I stare at him. 'Are you mad?' I say it without thinking.

He holds me up for another five minutes, ticking me off for insolence and saying I've got to do a half-hour's detention in his classroom after school this afternoon though he knows I've got to whizz home after the school performance to get my tea before coming back for the evening one. Still, it's a waste of breath arguing with him. I just stand there, letting him witter on, until some other poor kid slopes in even later and he starts picking on him instead.

I make out I'm off to put my bag on my peg in the cloakroom but as soon as Mr Juniper's back is turned I charge off with it down the corridor. As if I'm leaving my leather jacket there! Someone would nick it in five seconds. And I'm not going to bother to go to his poxy classroom after school either. He'll probably forget all about his detention and too bad if he doesn't.

I manage to get myself and my bag into the classroom without Mr Roberts taking too much notice he's in full flow, giving everyone performance tips for this afternoon. But then he starts walking up and down between the aisles and trips right over my bag. He peers down at it.

'Are you taking in laundry, Destiny?'

'Oh, ha ha. It's my costume, Mr Roberts,' I say.

'Well, put it in the PE store cupboard. That's where everyone else is keeping their kit,' says Mr Roberts.

'I can't do that, Mr Roberts,' I say.

'Can't or won't?' says Mr Roberts.

'Both,' I say.

Mr Roberts stands over me, folding his arms. The whole classroom goes eerily quiet. Mr Roberts is obviously pretty tense about the talent contest and now, here I am, winding him up.

He clears his throat theatrically. 'Here we both are in the classroom, Destiny. I have a simple question for you. Am I your fellow pupil? In which case you can choose to do what I say, according to your general obliging nature or common sense. Am I a pupil in this classroom, Destiny?'

'No, Mr Roberts.'

'What am I, then?'

Various answers spring to mind, but I'm not entirely daft.

'You're my teacher, Mr Roberts.'

'That's right! So therefore I tell you what to do and you obey. Is that correct?'

I hesitate. 'Generally, sir.'

'No, no, Destiny. You obey at all times. So take your cumbersome laundry bag to the PE store cupboard and leave it there.'

I don't move.

'Pronto!'

I don't know what to do. Mr Roberts isn't an officious twit like Mr Juniper. You can usually talk to him and explain stuff.

'Mr Roberts, I can't. It's too precious.'

'So what exactly is this costume, Destiny? Cloth of gold?'

'It's it's my jeans and stuff,' I say, not wanting to say outright.

Some of the kids start sniggering.

'Oh, precious jeans,' says Mr Roberts. 'Hand sewn with Swarovski crystals, perhaps?'

Now everyone's laughing at me.

'Let's have a look at these little sparklers,' says Mr Roberts, and he dives into my bag before I can stop him.

He brings out the old towel. The classroom collapses. Mr Roberts shakes the towel as if he's a bullfighter, really hamming it up and the leather jacket falls out. He picks it up in astonishment. Everyone's astonished.

'Wow! Look at Destiny's jacket!'