'You're still only a silly little kid and I don't have a clue when it comes to cooking and cleaning and stuff.'

'You must have cooked and cleaned before you got famous, when you lived in those flats.'

Mum hates being reminded that she grew up on a council estate. She glares at me. 'You don't know what you're talking about. We didn't do any cooking, we just went down the chippy, and as for cleaning, don't make me laugh! I was out of that filthy hole by the time I was sixteen, earning my own money as a model. Sunset, I was thinking, I might have had three kids but I reckon I could still do a bit of modelling, especially with my latest boob job. What do you reckon?'

I reckon she's crazy, but she's perked up a little at the thought, so I go along with this idea. 'Yeah, of course you could, Mum. You're still ever so pretty. Though at the moment your mascara's gone a bit smudgy. Hold on a tick, I'll get a damp flannel and wipe it off. Or why don't you go and have a shower, do your hair, get yourself all glammed up, because Sweetie and Ace are having a party.'

'Are you crazy, Sunset? We've only just held the most disastrous party ever. Are you deliberately trying to drive me insane? Hello?' She taps my forehead hard with her long false nails. 'Is there anyone in there?'

That's it. I'm suddenly sick of her. I knock her hand away. I very nearly slap her face.

'Yes, there is someone in here, Mum. I'm Sunset and I'm a person. I've got feelings. I'm sick sick sick of everyone being horrible to me. I'm trying hard to look after everyone, even you. Sweetie and Ace were crying so I thought I'd distract them with the idea of a party, just a play one, and it's got them all cheered up. This is all so scary can't you see that?'

'Don't you dare talk to me like that!'

'What are you going to do? Tell me to pack my bags like Claudia? Get a new daughter from the agency a pretty one with perfect teeth? I know you don't really want me but you're stuck with me. So why can't you stop moaning and crying and getting cross with everyone and look after us. You're the mother!'

She looks astonished, as if Sweetie's doll on the chair has suddenly stood up on her own two plastic feet and shouted at her.

'All right, I'm the mother but I wish I wasn't!' she says, and she runs out of the room.

I don't know where she's going or what she's going to do. I decide I don't care. I go into the kitchen and peer into the fridge, wondering what we can have for party food. Well, we can have ice cream for a start, and there's a big bowl of fruit. I can chop it up and make a fruit salad. We've got sliced bread so I can make sandwiches. Egg sandwiches! I can boil eggs, you just put them in a saucepan on the stove, for goodness' sake. Then I can mix them up with mayonnaise. What else? I find a big packet of crisps and a pack of chipolata sausages. We've got a grill. I can line the little sausages up and brown them, easy-peasy.

I make a start. It isn't quite as simple as I thought. My eyes have to swivel everywhere, making sure the sausages don't burn, and the eggs clank together in the pan and start cracking. My hands ache from chopping fruit and spreading bread. When the eggs and sausages are cooked and I'm waiting for them to cool down, I look around the kitchen to see if there's any way I can brighten it up. I've decided it's the most suitable place for the party venue. The big living room would just bring back painful memories, and it's better to avoid anywhere with carpets when Ace is eating.

I wish I had balloons. I make do with a handful of Sweetie's hair-ribbons, tying big bows round the kitchen drawer handles.

Then I dash upstairs to see how Sweetie and Ace are getting on. They've been surprisingly quiet. They're not in the playroom, though there are lots of invitations stacked across the floor. They've found potential guests too Sweetie's Rosie teddy and two Bratz dolls, and Ace's Tiger bear and several little toy soldiers. They're lying higgledypiggledy on the floor as if they've already been to a party and are now dead drunk.

I hear whispering and giggling. Sweetie and Ace are in my room. I rush across the landing and through the door. They've not just gone into my room. The wardrobe doors are wide open and the doll's house is open too: they're in Wardrobe City! They are holding Mrs Furry and Mr Fat Bruin and Chop Suey and Trotty in their hands, making them jump about and talk in little squeaky voices.

'What are you doing?' I cry.

Sweetie and Ace jump guiltily. They know Wardrobe City is strictly forbidden territory. A few weeks ago I would have screamed my head off, snatched up all my precious private friends and bundled Sweetie and Ace out of my room. But now it's so strange, I don't really mind particularly. Wardrobe City isn't real to me any more. It's just a lovely toy that I used to play with and now Sweetie and Ace like playing with it too.

'Sorry, Sunset! We'll put all your people back,' says Sweetie quickly.

'It's OK. I think I'm going to let you two play with my doll's house now, if you're very careful and only when I say so. Shall we ask this one, Mrs Furry, to the party?'

'Oh, yes, let's! She wants to come to my princess party,' says Sweetie.

'Mind you look after her carefully. She might feel very small and shy standing next to your Rosie bear.'

I put nearly all my people back in their favourite places. I search around, looking in little cupboards and under tiny beds.

'Where's Peanut?' I ask.

'Who's Peanut?' says Sweetie.

'She's a little pink Plasticine baby,' I say.

They look stricken, especially Ace.

'What have you done with Peanut?' I demand.

'Nothing,' says Ace hurriedly.

'I think she might have accidentally got squashed,' Sweetie says. 'So we made her into food for all the little teddies.'

'Poor little Peanut!' I say. 'So you've turned the rest of my family into cannibals?' I try to sound cross, but can't help giggling, and the other two join in.

We collect up all the toys, sitting them around the playroom, and then Sweetie and Ace hand out their invitations.

'Don't forget your big new doll downstairs, Sweetie,' I say. 'What are you going to call her?'

'I don't know. I can never think of the right names for people,' says Sweetie.

'Let's call her Princess Rosabelle,' I say.

'Oh, yes, that's a lovely name,' says Sweetie.

'I am the Princess Rosabelle,

I have a pretty name.

I have a pretty face as well,

I like this party game.'

I sing, making it up as I go along. I think for a moment.

'I shall dance with pointy feet

and I shall sing this song.

I will kiss my sister sweet,

Playing all night long.'

It's hardly a proper song, but Sweetie sings it happily over and over again. Ace wants a song too.

'Hear him roar,

Feel him bite,

See him gore,

Watch him fight.

Stripes on his face,

My Tigerman Ace.'

He likes my song, though he can't remember my words or sing the tune, so he just goes 'Roar!' and 'Bite!' and 'Fight!'

'OK, let's start the party,' I say. 'Come downstairs with all your guests.'

While they're trying to prop every doll and teddy up on the kitchen benches, I make up the egg sandwiches and pop little toothpicks in the sausages and lay out all the food in pretty patterns on the plates. I don't know how many places to set for real people. I go to the kitchen door and call.

'Mum, we're about to start the parties. Are you coming?'

I don't really expect her to answer me. She's probably gone back to bed with a bottle. But then I hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, little clip-clops, which means she's wearing her high heels. When she comes into the kitchen we all gasp because she looks so gorgeous. She's wearing her very best silver sequin dress. It's very low cut and clings to her all the way down to her ankles, sparkling and shimmering in the kitchen spotlights. She's washed her hair and then teased it so it's all light and fluffy, and she's put on new makeup, with special silvery eyeshadow. Her eyes are outlined with black like Cleopatra, and she's got beautiful rosy cheeks, but her lips are ghostly pale. She's not wearing any lipstick whatsoever.

'Oh, Mummy, you look lovely!' says Sweetie.

'You're beautiful, Mum!' says Ace.

'Oh, Mum, thank you for coming to the parties,' I say.

'I wouldn't miss the parties for the world,' says Mum.

She sits at one end of the table, I sit at the other end, and Sweetie and Ace wriggle on either bench, forever leaping up to catch a party guest in a state of collapse.

We eat the party food, Sweetie and Ace sharing it out liberally so I have to keep wiping furry snouts and plastic lips. Mum nibbles at one sandwich and a tiny portion of fruit salad, but we're used to her not eating much because of her diet. Sweetie and Ace tuck in enthusiastically.

'You're very good at party food, Sunset,' says Sweetie.

'Tigerman says Yum yum yum,' says Ace.

'You really shouldn't boil eggs and grill sausages, Sunset. You could burn yourself,' says Mum. 'But well done, darling. This is a lovely idea. We'll get on fine just ourselves, won't we, kids? We're all having tremendous fun, aren't we?'

We're not really having tremendous fun, any of us, but we're all four pretending as hard as we can.

We carry on day by day, trying hard to convince ourselves. On Saturday Dad comes knocking at the door, and when Mum won't answer he tries to get in but she's bolted the back door as well as the front. Dad yells and taps at the windows. Sweetie and Ace cling to me, crying, not sure whether they want to rush out to Dad or stay safe with Mum. She's acting like Dad is ultra-scary and just wants to hurt us, and we know this is rubbish. Yet somehow it still feels as if we're under siege and Dad is the bad guy trying to break in and hurt us all. He tries phoning too, over and over again, until it sounds as if the whole house is ringing but eventually he gives up and drives away.

Mum cheers. We don't know whether to cheer too or cry. Dad doesn't come back on Sunday. This makes Mum triumph again.

'There! If your dad really cared about you he'd be back first thing today. I wouldn't rest until I could see you all, my darlings,' she says.

She makes an extra fuss of us and suggests we have a DVD party all evening, with popcorn and chocolate and ice cream and lots and lots of wine for her.

'No boring early-to-bedtime. We can stay up all night if that's what we want. Life is much more fun with your mum, isn't it!'